15 minutes before an new begining.

At my tuitions today, I was halfway through trying to decipher Marvell. That man writes such brain twisting poetry , i feel absolutely confident that i could understand Kafka or Freud with lesser effort. Not to mention the absolute grotesquness he seems to take such delight in.My personal opinion is that he was a sadist. But I digress.

Sir called us out on to the balcony to show us the moon.A fine crescent with an 'ask' of the whole moon in a blurred but nevertheless, bright form.......its kinda hard to explain, but beautiful.. just the perfect sight to end my year with....two lines from Harivansh Rai Bachchan's poem keeps playing in my mind.( u kno the way some tunes get inside your head and you cant just seem to make it go??? Like That.)
"जीवन में एक सितारा था .....माना वोह बेहद प्यारा था........
जो बीत गई, वोह बात गई...."

New year sort of marks the end of christmas........not that I celebrate either...but you would know what I mean.Looking forward to oh-nine.....the first part of oh-eight was amazing,and so was the last part in its boringness. I stopped making resolutions way, way back....maybe in class eight. I couldn't be sure. But the reason I stopped was that I usually forgot what resolution I had made in the first place. I always had a strong suspicion that it was to study harder, but then i really didnt like believing in that so I preferred suffering from selective amnesia.

Anyways, ill make a resolution this year. or even better, ill make two.
1. Remembering B'Days
2. Blogging more.

the second one's funny, considering no one really reads my posts( save over-interested siblings who have noses a foot long each); but i always wrote only for myself. im hopeless at the first one but i can always try. We always feel that way at year- ends don't we???

Ill hope for brighter stars this new year.

Elementary, my dear Watson......

Sherlock holmes: looking up at this vast universe, I feel so insignificant....
Me: strange. Looking at a mirror makes me feel the same way.

That time of the year.

" silent night......holy night...
all is calm.....all is bright.."

a crisp chill in the air and the quaint tunes of soft carols, Christmas comes again.
its soooo much more than the breed of MBAs wud hav us believe.Christmas,that resides in its spirit,a spirit which tells us that giving is, and always has been, infinitely better than receiving. Which extends so much farther than a string of mulicolored lights...in the forgotten parables read out to us years back wen we were in the primary section...in the memories of reading A Christmas Carol,at the end of which our hearts were gladdened at small, homely and generous lives..in havin learnt the lessons of generosity.

Christmas .....it invaribly brings along in me a desire to do good,to help,to reach out, to revisit the part of me that shall always remain in the classroom of 1B.....listening ,for the first time ever the tale of the man who made the blind men see and the lame walk,seeing with wonder,a shiny christmas tree.

Sometimes it also makes me relive all those last days just before the christmas hols;yelling mery christmas and writing the same on blackboards.....christmas was the best part of all dose days back at Loreto.......straining my ears, I can almost hear the corridors of my school ringing with Away in a Manger.

The chill is more pronounced this christmas eve in Kolkata,and most streets in northern calcutta shall still be bare,because people here still spend christmasses with family,.in quiet thanksgiving and love. Christmas is not to be celebrated with the drunk and the rowdy.

And I'd still like to believe in the fairy Mrs Anthony told me about.The one who reports to santa about whether I've been good all year.

Spread the cheer mates...Merry Christmas.!!

A Month Later.

Some ghosts refuse to be exorcised.
The horrors of Parition returned to haunt.
Even half a century and a decade later.

Shaurya....

shaurya kya hai?

thartharati is dharti ko raundti,
faujon ki ek paltan ka shor,
ya sehme se aasman ko cheerta hua,
bandukon ki salami ka shor...

shaurya kya hai?

hari wardi par chamakte hue
chand peetal ke sitare,
ya sarhad ka naam dekar
andekhi kuch lakeeron ki numaish...

shaurya kya hai?

door udte kahmosh parinde ko
goliyon se bhoon dene ka ehsaas,
ya sholon ki barsaat se,pal bahr mein,
ek sheher ko shamshan bana dene ka ehsaas,

shaurya kya hai?

behti hui aas mein kisi ke khoon ka,
hole se sukhb jaana....
ya anjaane kisi firaaq mein,
pal pal ka dosakh bante jaana...

shaurya kya hai?

baarud se dhundhle is aasmaan mein.......
shaurya kya hai?

vadiyon mein gunjte kisi gaon ke maatam mein.....
shautya kya hai?

Shaurya...
shayad ek hosla,
shayad ek himmat,
hamare bohot andar...

goliyion ki betahasha shor ko
apni khamoshi se chunauti de paane ki himmat.
marti marti is duniya mein,
nihatte date rehne ki himmat.

Shaurya....
aane wale kal ki khatir,
apne hisse ki kayanat ko aaj hi bacha lene ki himmat.

shaurya kya hai????



aap kahiye...

Quote Unquote.

courage is what it takes to stand and speak up.....
courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.

dreams.....

"jaage hain der tak hame,

kuch der sone do....

thodi si raat aur hai,

subah toh hone do."

"adhure hue jo khwab hain,

pure na ho sake.....

ek baar phir se neend mein,

woh khwab bone do..."

PROFOUND. MAGICAL. TRANSCEDENTAL.

The Singur Saga.

It seems quiet after the storm.....and there's a strain of sadness in this quiet.
Bengal has just missed out on an industrial rennesiance that would hav taken it back to the glorious 50s.... wen it was the hub of industrialztion. Just before the naxalite movement, trade unionism, and a certain Jyoti Basu reared their heads.

The Nano was crucial...for a revolution....something that Bengal has needed for nearly 4 decades now, with is economy stagnant and incapable of generating new avenues of employment and wealth.
The Nano was crucial....to realise somebody's dream of Amar Shonar Bangla.

And yet....i found it difficult to bat 4 Bhattacharya every time i heard him abused.and so very colourfully at that.For u see...i dint see Mamta Banerjee as the opposition.

I saw Mamta Bannerjee and Medha Patkar and Arundhati Talwar and Arundhati Roy and Aparna Sen and Shaonli Mitra. I saw feminism demanding its right to be seen. To be heard. To be able to make a difference. Which they did. And three cheers to that.

Chauvinism in beauracracy plagues India.It was overcome as im sure its dentined that it must. Thats a start. A start that heralds newer beginings.....Beginings which promise greater equality. Its utopian to believe that complete equality is in sight.

Its been exhilirating to follow this Saga.....and overwhelming to watch it end. This was DEFINETLY one, long ride. And the gang of girls did everything just perfectly. As im sure P wud hav said........ "way to go gals!"

i saw indomitable spirit, inflexible covictions and tremendous will power. Never before, i believe, has the destiny of a collective mass of people been shped so decisively by women.Or maybe im just forgetting Indira Gandhi.

Foolish though the cost might have been, and heavy though the price, the Tata's goodbye seems to hold up a message- bold and clear.....Bengal has finally come of age.

the useless me was surfing the net 2day......and dis is wat i found -http://http//www.blogthings.com/areyouaperfectionistquiz/results/?result=68
i strongly suggest dat hav a look ASAP (4 dose wid limited intelligence/vocabulary; strongly suggest= just do it, ASAP=NOW )

dis is wat it said abt me:

You Are 68% Perfectionist
You are a true perfectionist. You are both demanding of yourself and others.While it's great to have goals and standards, they don't need to be sky high!

fish.

not been riting anything latly.....If u want an xcuse...my keyboards not wrking( rite now im usin da on-screen 1......and its a real pain in da neck...trst me.).......nd if u want a reason......well...ive been lazy. one lump of butter.

since i dont see any change of keyboard in sight (and now, if u want a reason 4 DAT TOO...ud bettr ask my father- lol) ...thght...mite as well visit da shit i manage 2 pen down in my usual groggy state...

2day was a day of fish. not bcuz ive got a new aquarium at home(which by da way.........i HAVNT..). but bcuz...i had fish thruout da day......and i mean 4 breakfast lunch AND dinner. now i LOVE fish....or atleast watevrs bong im me loves it. Dats 90% of me.
however, on days lik dis..we often realise many things......1 of dem mite be dat dere is only so much u can hav of something.......even if its fish.maach.machli.

im satiated. completely.

Evil.

There is always a fascination for the abomination........for evil is powerful...and goodness insipid.
evil entices as no other...it lures and it ensnares. because there are always the willing.....the ready.
Forbidden fruit is sweet. Very Sweet.

A MIRAGE.

Thre's a mirage constantly beckoning me............pulling me towards its vanishing facade........and i dunno myself wat exactly it is..... just a feeling of urgency ..... a feeling at the back of my mind that's telling me to act before its too late.........is it a wrong turning ive taken ???????

sumtyme sits not enough to be doing what u like.........maybe, just maybe, the satisfaction lies in doing wat u ought to.......or does it????

Dreams r worth following. Are mirages too???
As i said..........Maybe. Just maybe.

a little prayer..

"...... so i say a little prayer,

and hope my dreams will take me there

were skies are blue...

...over seas and coast to coast

to find the place i love the most."





life's an incredible journey......it goes so far...we keep growing as we tread on the paths that it may offer....what paths are offered is destiny,but turnings are always
ours to choose. Dumbledore said it so perfectly..."its our choices that show us more truly for what we are.....far more than our abilities....."

every turning point has seemed so confusing, every bifurcation so bewildering......



there r so many tymes dat a chosen road may hav seemed ardous and painstaking.....and so much so that we begin to wonder ...and doubt our choices....at the hazy dreams at the far end of the road....and despairingly ask if there's any road to it at all.......see ppl on other roads who might seem closer to there and feel like retracing steps back to the turning point..........if dere's a turning back at all.........


for there are so many ppl who'd advise this..and no strangers dey r too....they r ppl who r likd, revered and trusted......cud dat be da wiser option?????


Dreams r meant to be followed....arn't dey? thats wot id like to believe.......they r always worth giving another shot........

The journey must be undertaken for the goal lies not at the end of the rainbow.......its learning to grow ....with others....for others....as we keep on walking. trying ceaselessly to push urself to the ever elusive next level...........


theres sum1 followin a dream...sum1 whos daring to wait a while longer.....just 2 stay on the road that mite lead to dose dreams....for theres a belief dat dose dreams r worth a million bucks.

faith is important. faith in urself, faith in ur capabilities, and, above all, God. Ive never seen a stronger faith, or a more stubborn belief.



and so ill say a little prayer for you too...
and hope ur dreams will take u there...
where the skies are blue.....
......over seas and coast to coast....
to find the place u love the most....



lyrics courtsey westlife.

A Phoenix's rebirth.

The olympics exemplifies the very ideals that man has stood for....over centuries.

Man's eternal quest to overcome nature....pushing himself, excruciatingly, punishingly, inch by inch, beyond boundaries that are only human.the spirit to achieve.....to shine among a galaxy of millions....to posses the olympic halo that pronounces one the ultimate victor.

The greatest show on earth.

A personification of all that man can, ever, achieve. An embodiment of man's ultimate aspirations,dreams, desires.............

But my blog is not about this already talked to death about topic.No. its about another talked to death about topic.

A certain Abhinav Bindra.Who sent billions into a celebrating frenzy.

A socerer who reincarnated a whole nation.he has come to symbolise that eternal hope for India. Awakening a long awakening spirit; a victors will to conquer.

Maybe brought us those few precious moments when the quaint, ancient tunes of

Jana Gana fill us with a passionate pride.

Somehow, very strangely, economics, business, five year plans, public sector....

all fade away beside the figure of this slight man. Or maybe we just choose to ignore all else beside him. its a rare enough indulgence.

i have always believed, india with its teeming populations can stand tall....... a giant dwarfing giants. my country's strength.....its youth.

Watch it rising like a Phoenix. For though India has the makings of a shambles, it also has the potential to be a celebration of life.

Pain.....

Pain is not romantic. It is ugly , vicious, parasitic. There isnt any glory, there isnt any praise associated with it. Nothing to make the pain feel worthwhile. It is unjust, unfair and merciless. it brings charity and sympathy , never empathy. And
all too often, it brings sadistic pleasure. Lapierre was wrong : there is no heroism in suffering . the human spirit is resilient. It survives. Nearly always.

I LOVE MY COUNTRY............

Cynicism is as easy to catch as malaria and far more dangerous.especially for the young people.we pick it up like an echo from professors, from movies,from one another.

it sounds adult. sophisticated.worldly wise.One who knows.

Another 15 august is upon us.The daily papers have daily news of daily disasters.This horrible country. Why cant we be like England? America? Australia? Canada? Anywhere?you see, its all these filthy politicians.its all because of our education system. its all a matter of population.its all because we are a tropical country. Its all because we are simply illiterate.All the stuff about helping the poor-what can you do with millions and millions of them? what are we paying taxes for? stop right there.

There is indeeed a lot that is wrong with us.The thing is, that there is a lot that there is wrong with every country in the world.I would not like to be in a country that despises me because im brown. In a country where everyone has a gun and is likely to shoot me because they feel like it. Where i would be treated as contemptibly inferior. where they havent got a language they can call their own and little enough culture.whre my religion makes me a terrorist.

No. i think I would prefer this country that I live in. On. With. For.

I am proud of my roots.Of a country that defied empires to arrive at freedom,even if we have made a bit a mess of that freedom, freedom it still is and we are working at it. This land flows in my blood, breathes in mylungs, pumps in my heart.

Welcome 15th August.

Vagaries..........

it couldnt have been him. No . Of course not.Even as he lay wounded and dying, he was desperate for one thread of of assurance ,a glance,an indication,an iota of someone's belief....... a whisper that could put his tortured conscience , finally,to peace that had eluded him for years......in the last thereos of life,one often hears...........scenes of life flash before one's life................. then was he dying??? Maybe. Probably.



Somebody was shifting the venetian blinds.............and bright sunlight filtered in..............

"tomar bondhu esheche"

"ke? ashish?"

"hmm"


..................it was such a sunny morning..............how could it have turned into one of darkest days of his life????????

life was fast ebbing out of him..................he was now aware of a numbness that was gripping him...........how long before he turned cold????........


the highway was in perfect condition.........perfect enough for a real spin before college................the sensations were so real........... flying through the air................great music.......
heavenly day.


Blackness was spreading over his eyes............blurred streetlights in the distance....... honking horns all fading away........maybe he might yet find peace...

........Ashish's smashed face loomed large..........what had happened???? how had Ashish died???
surely he wasnt responsible??? No,of course not. wasnt that what his mum had told him??? his dad had repeated???



Maybe he'd ask Ashish. Ashish always spoke the truth.

heyyyyyy......lyfe;s just startin..............

that was me.strolling down the beautiful lawn of my college on what was the first day at college.......it felt like a dream..........and like with all good dreams,i was soon jerked out of my reveries......my teachers.....?(.oops,sorry...lecturers they are called i was told.)gave me a rude shock.





the kind that not merely wakes u up- it throws you off the bed and onto the floor and makes you run right out the door...............





college SIX DAYS A WEEK?? ???




right from 10 in the morning to 4.30 in the evening????????



she couldnt have been serious......im sure of that.
somebody has a sense of humor.


attendance for all the classes taken in the SAME REGISTER??? so that if you attend one class you have to attend all?????????????




a lunch break for only 15 MINUTES????(i mean even in the jail some people call school we had half an hour to satiate ourselves....)



my college athourities call it discipline.
actually , its more like child labour. i mean its just not legal.


truly.......;" colourful clothes do not a college make".
we live in constant hope.im sure im dreaming.im having a nightmare.somebody please, please
wake me up!!!

7 things I learnt from school.

1.the best thing about going to school is the ride back home.

2.breaking rules doesnt necessarily necessarily mean disrespecting authority.

3.the most charming people can be really and truly rotten inside.

4.you can tell a lot about people by looking at how they treat theit infereiors.

5.there is always a next exam to do better in .

6.perhaps the best knowledge imparted .........is in those ungaurded moments when teachers dont teach....

7.long after you've left people behind,somtimes on rainy days..............u remember not how many papers they topped in........but how they made you feel when you sat beside them in class....

PS:this'll be my last post about school.I promise.

Retrospective............

Strange how rainy days bring back so many memories............or maybe rite now im just too maladjusted to my new enviornment.................. unfamiliar faces..........strange voices.................

Strange......how those sheets of water conjure up images..........draw out pictures..........

it rained again today...........and reminded me of the countless periods spent in claassrooms......staring out of the window.............waiting for the bell to ring............wondering if it would rain while going back home.............of the countless mornings on which we came drenched to school............hoping to see a notice that declared it a holiday...............of the countless paper boats that were sailed in dirty puddles.............

pictures of iridescent umbrellas beneath the blackboard..........all there to dry......

Oh............for a life of sensations rather than of thought...............

A Dedicatory

somewhere between all the studying..............

and the pretending to study.........and the downright not studying..............somewhere between the endless classes........and the free periods...........somewhere between the teachers teaching................and the teachers not teaching................i forgot.............forgot what it was like not to sit beside friends...........

somewhere between all the laughing..........and the seriousness..............somewhere between all the talking about others ..and the talking about others...........somewhere between the endless ' u kno what happend'..........and the 'what will happen's................i forgot ...........forgot what it was like..........not to have anyone to say these things to...............

somewhere between all the smirking in class............and the covert glances...........somewhere between the staying back at school............and going out to school................somewhere between roaming around together..............and the bus ride back home together.............i forgot...............forgot what it was like not to have any aim................forgot what it was like to board buses whitout knowing where it would take us.........................

somewhere between the roadside puchkas................and the Bakers..............somewhere between Foodcourt..............and Cuppa...............somewhere between all those lunch breaks.............and the tiffin boxes................i forgot....................forgot what it was like to eat alone..............

somewhere between all those truth and dares......................and the dumb charades...............somewhere between all those hangmans.................and the lock and keys.................i forgot................forgot what it was like to be doing nothing......................

somewhere between always having your frnds by your side.............and seeing them at school everyday.....................................

i forgot.........................forgot what life was without them...............