I met you Radha. I met you on Friday. I saw you, I touched you, I smeared your face with that vermilion abir. you smiled; you smiled and did the same to me. We were standing beneath that the magnificent shadow provided by the overlapping of Radhachura and Krishnachura. Radha- who is one fourth brightness, two fourth Arabian perfume and one fourth Manobi- who can smile and break a riot, who wears sleeveless blouse, who has tiny bells attached to the brim of her ghaghra to create a mystic ambiance while she glides. You are that bartender who can create the most soothing drink for every man, you are the only color which stays forever. Floyd calls you green, I call you 'krishnokoli-doler dine dekhechhilem tare chhatim gachher chhayay..kalo meyer kalo horin chokh. Uff...Tagore always comes peeping when I'm romancing.
Why, why the hell are you so beautiful????? No more World Wars, no more tsunamis, no more earthquakes or volcanoes. I don't want to see those age old mortals fighting for your beauty. Nature look at her no more. Ask you mountains and rivers and forests to mellow down. I know her beauty is devastating but let that ruin fall over me. I will swallow my ruin to the fullest and lick the last drop of it with all my heart and soul. shundori tumi shudhui amar. Untie your hair and grant me the freedom to taste it. How many rivers you need to wash this enormous expanse of dark sea I don't know but i can bring you the Hooghly if you want. i and that Gulancho gachh were waiting for you, red was the soil, red was our soul....
If pre-Holi can be so dangerous....God spare me this intensely painful rapture....I don't want to die so soon.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, December 18, 2009
Saturday, December 12, 2009
THE THREE BLADES OF MY FAN
My life like a ceiling fan has got three blades which represent the three dreams of my life. These are such dreams that I’ve nurtured within me since I began dreaming and they perhaps will remain with me till my last breath. And all three of them are equally precious for me.
The first dream is to be a Big Bollywood hero. A hero who both fights the villains as well as romances with the heroine on the sun blazed sea beaches or the rain fed mountain slopes. A huge bungalow situated on Marine Lines with a fountain at a few feet distant from the portico. A hero for whom the entire nation goes crazy and girls will go Pa Ma Ga Re Sa for me.
My second dream is to catch a thief someday. I passionately wish that I get to catch a thief, tie him to a pole, throw the choicest expletives at his face and then release him. The adventure and romanticism associated with catching a thief is what appeals to me the most.
And my final dream is to see me as a dynamite that is used to explode the mountains. I wish that I had that intense power in me that can pose a serious challenge to the mighty mountains. Shayong Everest will shudder to think of me.
When a fan moves we cannot distinctly make out one blade from the other. So am I. I cannot realize my dreams in the daily hustle bustle of life but they envelope all my senses and fill me with extreme pleasure in my solitude just as the three blades can be easily identified when the fan is at rest
Monday, November 16, 2009
RANDOM THOUGHTS
(Please read the last paragraph before beginning)
No man is or can be absolutely neutral. I often hear people saying,’ami konodikei noi’ is nothing but absolute crap. I believe and am sure enough that every man is inclined in some direction or the other and these types of statements are the easiest head turners and nod seekers.
Some men loves to be worshipped, however ‘atheist’ he might be. He who houses such desires surprisingly gets hold of a group who are more than happy to deify that person and it is even more surprising to find that these people can never accept their defeat or are rather chicken hearted to do so. And these people in the long run end up being the biggest loser.
There is no absolute belief. What I believe in today with all heart can turn out to be the greatest unbelief of tomorrow and that drastic changes in belief causes a lot of agony. It is true that men love to stick to unfaltering believes, but when these believes fail them, they suffer from excruciating pain that is beyond articulation.
There are some who don’t, some who can’t and some who make no efforts to understand. Among these three the most interesting are the ones who belong to the last category. They are the ones in a twilight zone. They either have excess intelligence that trips down the over brimmed cup and thus all their precious time is wasted in recollecting those fallen drops or their empty headedness is to such alarming degree that all their time is spent in understanding what to understand.
There is no problem under the sun that cannot be solved and no solution is the perfect solution to any problem
Writing essays, poems, songs, short stories, novels, discourses, dissertations, theses, lectures and what not is still somehow achievable but drama—‘noibo noibo cho’. It is perhaps the most difficult among these and those who accomplish in this Herculean task are blessed souls I must say.
People tend to become less serious with each passing day contrary to what is popularly believed as age instills maturity(that no belief is absolute is perhaps established).
‘Jai Ho’ concert was not overwhelmingly impressive but obviously entertaining and paisa wasool not withstanding those few dozens of expletives that some very music lovers used on and off when a laralappa track shifted to a softer one.
I was literally in tears on two very recent occasions: Firstly, when the author of the drama ‘WIRE’ was introduced before the audience by Dr. Lal and secondly, when I saw Rahman touching the Harmonium and offering his ‘pronam’ (I’m either unaware of the English term or currently unable to recollect from my poor memory). Music students can very well relate to my emotion.
My PC has been infested with 124 unfixable, unquarantinable and undeletable bugs and is in a state of incubation period that will make transition to a state of bug flu and there is no tami flu for its cure.
I detest people who don’t read fiction and I equally detest those who read nothing other than academic texts.
I’m in plain and simple terms a stupid, headless bloke who is stupid enough to write these stupid things but it’s also a matter of fact that I would rather happily keep embracing stupidity than be a goddamned intellectual or in better words an ‘atel-ectual’.
‘Kartik masher sesh ar ohono thandar nam gandho nai’ is what my soul mate, my grand mom is saying these days. I distinctly remember those days when Kali pujo’s night would be the first ‘katha gaye debar’ night and the subsequent days would subsequently gain in chill momentum. Those were the days! God knows what went sour in the relationship between Kolkata and winter.
Those who are reserved by nature are in reality very open and candid. Their reticence is situation specific, the right situation can bring out the most talkative from an otherwise quiet person
I don’t understand the meaning or rather the ocean of meanings associated with words ending in ‘ism’ viz- romanticism, transcendentalism, nihilism and so on. I have high respect for those who have mastered in these understandings.
Political parties who believe in constitutional form of government can never serve any fruitful purpose for any nation and thus no progress (if that is a suitable term) can ever be achieved. It holds good for India and hence West Bengal too. The deplorable and highly contemptible state of affairs that the Congress dwelled in bore fruit for CPIM to find their way in people’s heart and today when the so called communists’ uncovering of their ugly face is the perfect Sun that TMC is using to make hay and the cycle goes on….
Few thoughts on Tagore- Firstly, obsession with Tagore is perhaps the sweetest disease that one should at some point in their life get. It is that supreme disease which serves as the healer to every worldly disease.
Secondly Rabindranath is one such name that can be possessed by only one man in this world and no individual how popular he might be is entitled to use that name. Hence I hate people like Rabindranath Basu, Rabindranath Chatterjee or Rabindranath Bag.
Thirdly Rabindrasangeet cannot be taught. Schools which proclaim themselves as the hub of Rabindrasangeet are the most goddamned institutes who teach nothing more than ‘komol Ni’ or ‘kori Ma’. They extract the plethora of essence from those songs and throw them into Adi Ganga.
Hindi movies jug jug jiyo is what I keep saying how disapproving and bally it might sound to my fellow JUDEans.
I detest those who stay in India, are born and brought up in India and shall keep staying here for their lifetime yet everything Indian is,’ my foot’ and everything western is, ‘OMG!’ to them. The only feeling that goes out for them is sheer pity.
Two equally talented people can never exist in partnership (exceptions not in consideration). There is bound to be clashes on some issues or the other and that steadily loosens the bond. I don’t know about relationships but it definitely true for people in partnership enterprise ( Jatin-Lalit, Sidhu-Pota)
God is very much in existence and is an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being. This is not what I believe in but Trust. I feel no absolute compulsions to provide any sort of ‘koifiot’ to those who don’t think like me and I also feel that there is no necessity for anyone to justify their point of view however challenging it might seem.
The first time smokers make it a point to make their new activity a very surreptitious one out of a very strange reason. They fear being an outcaste among their kinship but never fear their quickly approaching end. It is as if the tag of a smoker will lower their image or reputation without once caring for the real cause. How very strange!!!
No matter how old a resident of Salt Lake a person is, he/she is bound to get lost in the infinite labyrinth of that mysterious lake at some point of time.
Bengalis had always referred to this city as Kolkata from time immemorial and for the Nons it was always and still is Calcutta. Thus the official change in name has served no purpose in reality except the envelopes reading ‘Kolkata’.
No night club in Kolkata houses as lousy and loathsome crowd as ‘Sisha’ does. One who has been to Sisha on any 31st night will surely empathize with me.
All those who sport long, jhakra chul are bound to be guitarists or are in the making. Our own Lal bears testimony to my claim.
If ‘bad hair day’ is not a gender specific term then I must say that I’m having a bad hair year. My hair is growing and growing and I’m too lazy to put a stop to that growth and it is reaching a state of ultimate unkemptness. It’s high time I must do something with it.
An egalitarian society can never be realized in practice and my hopes of a ‘srenihin samaj’ shall never drown however obscure, impractical or unattainable it might seem.
Marx never said or wrote that those who believe in his philosophy should necessarily be an atheist. Thus those who flaunt their atheism on virtue of believing in communism are fools. The real aim of a communist is to set oneself in a voyage in search of ‘Jiboner mane or Beche thakar mane’. And I must say that being a communist is not as easy a task to accomplish as in saying. I believe in communism but am not a communist because I don’t possess that enormous strength.
JU people in general are of extreme types. They either listen to or practice hardcore rock, punk, metal, death metal and what not or Bhajogourango, Krishno korle lila. There are very few who tread the middle path.
‘Manusher protio bishyash harano paap’ ia what I would love to believe in but the absolute futility of the term ‘bishyash’ instills such fear in me that I beg to differ with Tagore and would rather pile up my bag with ‘paap’.
Institutions of any sort tend to get on my nerves after a certain period of time. While in school longing for college days and now in university am looking forward to the day when I’ll draw my first salary. Present never satiates me and future keeps enticing me.
‘Engendering mediocrity since 2004’ is what one of the boards in our department reads and the very sight of it on the very first day filled me with immense joy. Relieved to learn that people of retarded mental faculties do exist in this otherwise intellectual atmosphere.
I stand apart from the rest of JUDE in one aspect if not more. I cannot stand Harry Potter. To me it challenges all sorts of mental, physical, psychological, logical faculties. I keep wondering what enigma glues so many people to that epitome of madness and eccentricity. Thank God it has finally come to an end.
I fail to understand why roadside pay and use toilets are referred to as ‘sulabh’. Don’t we all know that the terms sulabh and toilet are not even remotely close to each other in meaning???
If it is true that we were indeed over marked in our schooldays then why are we under marked in our college days? Can students never expect to be judiciously marked???
Sweety, Monica, champa are names which are a very commonplace among hookers is what I feel and io despise girls who possess such names but do not belong the race of lip painters.
The more I keep digging my brains the more such maddening thoughts are going to spring up. So I must stop digging. Before ending(beginning) I must say that these are all very personal opinions of me and intends no offence in any form to anyone.
(Please read the last paragraph before beginning)
No man is or can be absolutely neutral. I often hear people saying,’ami konodikei noi’ is nothing but absolute crap. I believe and am sure enough that every man is inclined in some direction or the other and these types of statements are the easiest head turners and nod seekers.
Some men loves to be worshipped, however ‘atheist’ he might be. He who houses such desires surprisingly gets hold of a group who are more than happy to deify that person and it is even more surprising to find that these people can never accept their defeat or are rather chicken hearted to do so. And these people in the long run end up being the biggest loser.
There is no absolute belief. What I believe in today with all heart can turn out to be the greatest unbelief of tomorrow and that drastic changes in belief causes a lot of agony. It is true that men love to stick to unfaltering believes, but when these believes fail them, they suffer from excruciating pain that is beyond articulation.
There are some who don’t, some who can’t and some who make no efforts to understand. Among these three the most interesting are the ones who belong to the last category. They are the ones in a twilight zone. They either have excess intelligence that trips down the over brimmed cup and thus all their precious time is wasted in recollecting those fallen drops or their empty headedness is to such alarming degree that all their time is spent in understanding what to understand.
There is no problem under the sun that cannot be solved and no solution is the perfect solution to any problem
Writing essays, poems, songs, short stories, novels, discourses, dissertations, theses, lectures and what not is still somehow achievable but drama—‘noibo noibo cho’. It is perhaps the most difficult among these and those who accomplish in this Herculean task are blessed souls I must say.
People tend to become less serious with each passing day contrary to what is popularly believed as age instills maturity(that no belief is absolute is perhaps established).
‘Jai Ho’ concert was not overwhelmingly impressive but obviously entertaining and paisa wasool not withstanding those few dozens of expletives that some very music lovers used on and off when a laralappa track shifted to a softer one.
I was literally in tears on two very recent occasions: Firstly, when the author of the drama ‘WIRE’ was introduced before the audience by Dr. Lal and secondly, when I saw Rahman touching the Harmonium and offering his ‘pronam’ (I’m either unaware of the English term or currently unable to recollect from my poor memory). Music students can very well relate to my emotion.
My PC has been infested with 124 unfixable, unquarantinable and undeletable bugs and is in a state of incubation period that will make transition to a state of bug flu and there is no tami flu for its cure.
I detest people who don’t read fiction and I equally detest those who read nothing other than academic texts.
I’m in plain and simple terms a stupid, headless bloke who is stupid enough to write these stupid things but it’s also a matter of fact that I would rather happily keep embracing stupidity than be a goddamned intellectual or in better words an ‘atel-ectual’.
‘Kartik masher sesh ar ohono thandar nam gandho nai’ is what my soul mate, my grand mom is saying these days. I distinctly remember those days when Kali pujo’s night would be the first ‘katha gaye debar’ night and the subsequent days would subsequently gain in chill momentum. Those were the days! God knows what went sour in the relationship between Kolkata and winter.
Those who are reserved by nature are in reality very open and candid. Their reticence is situation specific, the right situation can bring out the most talkative from an otherwise quiet person
I don’t understand the meaning or rather the ocean of meanings associated with words ending in ‘ism’ viz- romanticism, transcendentalism, nihilism and so on. I have high respect for those who have mastered in these understandings.
Political parties who believe in constitutional form of government can never serve any fruitful purpose for any nation and thus no progress (if that is a suitable term) can ever be achieved. It holds good for India and hence West Bengal too. The deplorable and highly contemptible state of affairs that the Congress dwelled in bore fruit for CPIM to find their way in people’s heart and today when the so called communists’ uncovering of their ugly face is the perfect Sun that TMC is using to make hay and the cycle goes on….
Few thoughts on Tagore- Firstly, obsession with Tagore is perhaps the sweetest disease that one should at some point in their life get. It is that supreme disease which serves as the healer to every worldly disease.
Secondly Rabindranath is one such name that can be possessed by only one man in this world and no individual how popular he might be is entitled to use that name. Hence I hate people like Rabindranath Basu, Rabindranath Chatterjee or Rabindranath Bag.
Thirdly Rabindrasangeet cannot be taught. Schools which proclaim themselves as the hub of Rabindrasangeet are the most goddamned institutes who teach nothing more than ‘komol Ni’ or ‘kori Ma’. They extract the plethora of essence from those songs and throw them into Adi Ganga.
Hindi movies jug jug jiyo is what I keep saying how disapproving and bally it might sound to my fellow JUDEans.
I detest those who stay in India, are born and brought up in India and shall keep staying here for their lifetime yet everything Indian is,’ my foot’ and everything western is, ‘OMG!’ to them. The only feeling that goes out for them is sheer pity.
Two equally talented people can never exist in partnership (exceptions not in consideration). There is bound to be clashes on some issues or the other and that steadily loosens the bond. I don’t know about relationships but it definitely true for people in partnership enterprise ( Jatin-Lalit, Sidhu-Pota)
God is very much in existence and is an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being. This is not what I believe in but Trust. I feel no absolute compulsions to provide any sort of ‘koifiot’ to those who don’t think like me and I also feel that there is no necessity for anyone to justify their point of view however challenging it might seem.
The first time smokers make it a point to make their new activity a very surreptitious one out of a very strange reason. They fear being an outcaste among their kinship but never fear their quickly approaching end. It is as if the tag of a smoker will lower their image or reputation without once caring for the real cause. How very strange!!!
No matter how old a resident of Salt Lake a person is, he/she is bound to get lost in the infinite labyrinth of that mysterious lake at some point of time.
Bengalis had always referred to this city as Kolkata from time immemorial and for the Nons it was always and still is Calcutta. Thus the official change in name has served no purpose in reality except the envelopes reading ‘Kolkata’.
No night club in Kolkata houses as lousy and loathsome crowd as ‘Sisha’ does. One who has been to Sisha on any 31st night will surely empathize with me.
All those who sport long, jhakra chul are bound to be guitarists or are in the making. Our own Lal bears testimony to my claim.
If ‘bad hair day’ is not a gender specific term then I must say that I’m having a bad hair year. My hair is growing and growing and I’m too lazy to put a stop to that growth and it is reaching a state of ultimate unkemptness. It’s high time I must do something with it.
An egalitarian society can never be realized in practice and my hopes of a ‘srenihin samaj’ shall never drown however obscure, impractical or unattainable it might seem.
Marx never said or wrote that those who believe in his philosophy should necessarily be an atheist. Thus those who flaunt their atheism on virtue of believing in communism are fools. The real aim of a communist is to set oneself in a voyage in search of ‘Jiboner mane or Beche thakar mane’. And I must say that being a communist is not as easy a task to accomplish as in saying. I believe in communism but am not a communist because I don’t possess that enormous strength.
JU people in general are of extreme types. They either listen to or practice hardcore rock, punk, metal, death metal and what not or Bhajogourango, Krishno korle lila. There are very few who tread the middle path.
‘Manusher protio bishyash harano paap’ ia what I would love to believe in but the absolute futility of the term ‘bishyash’ instills such fear in me that I beg to differ with Tagore and would rather pile up my bag with ‘paap’.
Institutions of any sort tend to get on my nerves after a certain period of time. While in school longing for college days and now in university am looking forward to the day when I’ll draw my first salary. Present never satiates me and future keeps enticing me.
‘Engendering mediocrity since 2004’ is what one of the boards in our department reads and the very sight of it on the very first day filled me with immense joy. Relieved to learn that people of retarded mental faculties do exist in this otherwise intellectual atmosphere.
I stand apart from the rest of JUDE in one aspect if not more. I cannot stand Harry Potter. To me it challenges all sorts of mental, physical, psychological, logical faculties. I keep wondering what enigma glues so many people to that epitome of madness and eccentricity. Thank God it has finally come to an end.
I fail to understand why roadside pay and use toilets are referred to as ‘sulabh’. Don’t we all know that the terms sulabh and toilet are not even remotely close to each other in meaning???
If it is true that we were indeed over marked in our schooldays then why are we under marked in our college days? Can students never expect to be judiciously marked???
Sweety, Monica, champa are names which are a very commonplace among hookers is what I feel and io despise girls who possess such names but do not belong the race of lip painters.
The more I keep digging my brains the more such maddening thoughts are going to spring up. So I must stop digging. Before ending(beginning) I must say that these are all very personal opinions of me and intends no offence in any form to anyone.
RANDOM THOUGHTS
(Please read the last paragraph before beginning)
No man is or can be absolutely neutral. I often hear people saying,’ami konodikei noi’ is nothing but absolute crap. I believe and am sure enough that every man is inclined in some direction or the other and these types of statements are the easiest head turners and nod seekers.
Some men loves to be worshipped, however ‘atheist’ he might be. He who houses such desires surprisingly gets hold of a group who are more than happy to deify that person and it is even more surprising to find that these people can never accept their defeat or are rather chicken hearted to do so. And these people in the long run end up being the biggest loser.
There is no absolute belief. What I believe in today with all heart can turn out to be the greatest unbelief of tomorrow and that drastic changes in belief causes a lot of agony. It is true that men love to stick to unfaltering believes, but when these believes fail them, they suffer from excruciating pain that is beyond articulation.
There are some who don’t, some who can’t and some who make no efforts to understand. Among these three the most interesting are the ones who belong to the last category. They are the ones in a twilight zone. They either have excess intelligence that trips down the over brimmed cup and thus all their precious time is wasted in recollecting those fallen drops or their empty headedness is to such alarming degree that all their time is spent in understanding what to understand.
There is no problem under the sun that cannot be solved and no solution is the perfect solution to any problem
Writing essays, poems, songs, short stories, novels, discourses, dissertations, theses, lectures and what not is still somehow achievable but drama—‘noibo noibo cho’. It is perhaps the most difficult among these and those who accomplish in this Herculean task are blessed souls I must say.
People tend to become less serious with each passing day contrary to what is popularly believed as age instills maturity(that no belief is absolute is perhaps established).
‘Jai Ho’ concert was not overwhelmingly impressive but obviously entertaining and paisa wasool not withstanding those few dozens of expletives that some very music lovers used on and off when a laralappa track shifted to a softer one.
I was literally in tears on two very recent occasions: Firstly, when the author of the drama ‘WIRE’ was introduced before the audience by Dr. Lal and secondly, when I saw Rahman touching the Harmonium and offering his ‘pronam’ (I’m either unaware of the English term or currently unable to recollect from my poor memory). Music students can very well relate to my emotion.
My PC has been infested with 124 unfixable, unquarantinable and undeletable bugs and is in a state of incubation period that will make transition to a state of bug flu and there is no tami flu for its cure.
I detest people who don’t read fiction and I equally detest those who read nothing other than academic texts.
I’m in plain and simple terms a stupid, headless bloke who is stupid enough to write these stupid things but it’s also a matter of fact that I would rather happily keep embracing stupidity than be a goddamned intellectual or in better words an ‘atel-ectual’.
‘Kartik masher sesh ar ohono thandar nam gandho nai’ is what my soul mate, my grand mom is saying these days. I distinctly remember those days when Kali pujo’s night would be the first ‘katha gaye debar’ night and the subsequent days would subsequently gain in chill momentum. Those were the days! God knows what went sour in the relationship between Kolkata and winter.
Those who are reserved by nature are in reality very open and candid. Their reticence is situation specific, the right situation can bring out the most talkative from an otherwise quiet person
I don’t understand the meaning or rather the ocean of meanings associated with words ending in ‘ism’ viz- romanticism, transcendentalism, nihilism and so on. I have high respect for those who have mastered in these understandings.
Political parties who believe in constitutional form of government can never serve any fruitful purpose for any nation and thus no progress (if that is a suitable term) can ever be achieved. It holds good for India and hence West Bengal too. The deplorable and highly contemptible state of affairs that the Congress dwelled in bore fruit for CPIM to find their way in people’s heart and today when the so called communists’ uncovering of their ugly face is the perfect Sun that TMC is using to make hay and the cycle goes on….
Few thoughts on Tagore- Firstly, obsession with Tagore is perhaps the sweetest disease that one should at some point in their life get. It is that supreme disease which serves as the healer to every worldly disease.
Secondly Rabindranath is one such name that can be possessed by only one man in this world and no individual how popular he might be is entitled to use that name. Hence I hate people like Rabindranath Basu, Rabindranath Chatterjee or Rabindranath Bag.
Thirdly Rabindrasangeet cannot be taught. Schools which proclaim themselves as the hub of Rabindrasangeet are the most goddamned institutes who teach nothing more than ‘komol Ni’ or ‘kori Ma’. They extract the plethora of essence from those songs and throw them into Adi Ganga.
Hindi movies jug jug jiyo is what I keep saying how disapproving and bally it might sound to my fellow JUDEans.
I detest those who stay in India, are born and brought up in India and shall keep staying here for their lifetime yet everything Indian is,’ my foot’ and everything western is, ‘OMG!’ to them. The only feeling that goes out for them is sheer pity.
Two equally talented people can never exist in partnership (exceptions not in consideration). There is bound to be clashes on some issues or the other and that steadily loosens the bond. I don’t know about relationships but it definitely true for people in partnership enterprise ( Jatin-Lalit, Sidhu-Pota)
God is very much in existence and is an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being. This is not what I believe in but Trust. I feel no absolute compulsions to provide any sort of ‘koifiot’ to those who don’t think like me and I also feel that there is no necessity for anyone to justify their point of view however challenging it might seem.
The first time smokers make it a point to make their new activity a very surreptitious one out of a very strange reason. They fear being an outcaste among their kinship but never fear their quickly approaching end. It is as if the tag of a smoker will lower their image or reputation without once caring for the real cause. How very strange!!!
No matter how old a resident of Salt Lake a person is, he/she is bound to get lost in the infinite labyrinth of that mysterious lake at some point of time.
Bengalis had always referred to this city as Kolkata from time immemorial and for the Nons it was always and still is Calcutta. Thus the official change in name has served no purpose in reality except the envelopes reading ‘Kolkata’.
No night club in Kolkata houses as lousy and loathsome crowd as ‘Sisha’ does. One who has been to Sisha on any 31st night will surely empathize with me.
All those who sport long, jhakra chul are bound to be guitarists or are in the making. Our own Lal bears testimony to my claim.
If ‘bad hair day’ is not a gender specific term then I must say that I’m having a bad hair year. My hair is growing and growing and I’m too lazy to put a stop to that growth and it is reaching a state of ultimate unkemptness. It’s high time I must do something with it.
An egalitarian society can never be realized in practice and my hopes of a ‘srenihin samaj’ shall never drown however obscure, impractical or unattainable it might seem.
Marx never said or wrote that those who believe in his philosophy should necessarily be an atheist. Thus those who flaunt their atheism on virtue of believing in communism are fools. The real aim of a communist is to set oneself in a voyage in search of ‘Jiboner mane or Beche thakar mane’. And I must say that being a communist is not as easy a task to accomplish as in saying. I believe in communism but am not a communist because I don’t possess that enormous strength.
JU people in general are of extreme types. They either listen to or practice hardcore rock, punk, metal, death metal and what not or Bhajogourango, Krishno korle lila. There are very few who tread the middle path.
‘Manusher protio bishyash harano paap’ ia what I would love to believe in but the absolute futility of the term ‘bishyash’ instills such fear in me that I beg to differ with Tagore and would rather pile up my bag with ‘paap’.
Institutions of any sort tend to get on my nerves after a certain period of time. While in school longing for college days and now in university am looking forward to the day when I’ll draw my first salary. Present never satiates me and future keeps enticing me.
‘Engendering mediocrity since 2004’ is what one of the boards in our department reads and the very sight of it on the very first day filled me with immense joy. Relieved to learn that people of retarded mental faculties do exist in this otherwise intellectual atmosphere.
I stand apart from the rest of JUDE in one aspect if not more. I cannot stand Harry Potter. To me it challenges all sorts of mental, physical, psychological, logical faculties. I keep wondering what enigma glues so many people to that epitome of madness and eccentricity. Thank God it has finally come to an end.
I fail to understand why roadside pay and use toilets are referred to as ‘sulabh’. Don’t we all know that the terms sulabh and toilet are not even remotely close to each other in meaning???
If it is true that we were indeed over marked in our schooldays then why are we under marked in our college days? Can students never expect to be judiciously marked???
Sweety, Monica, champa are names which are a very commonplace among hookers is what I feel and io despise girls who possess such names but do not belong the race of lip painters.
The more I keep digging my brains the more such maddening thoughts are going to spring up. So I must stop digging. Before ending(beginning) I must say that these are all very personal opinions of me and intends no offence in any form to anyone.
(Please read the last paragraph before beginning)
No man is or can be absolutely neutral. I often hear people saying,’ami konodikei noi’ is nothing but absolute crap. I believe and am sure enough that every man is inclined in some direction or the other and these types of statements are the easiest head turners and nod seekers.
Some men loves to be worshipped, however ‘atheist’ he might be. He who houses such desires surprisingly gets hold of a group who are more than happy to deify that person and it is even more surprising to find that these people can never accept their defeat or are rather chicken hearted to do so. And these people in the long run end up being the biggest loser.
There is no absolute belief. What I believe in today with all heart can turn out to be the greatest unbelief of tomorrow and that drastic changes in belief causes a lot of agony. It is true that men love to stick to unfaltering believes, but when these believes fail them, they suffer from excruciating pain that is beyond articulation.
There are some who don’t, some who can’t and some who make no efforts to understand. Among these three the most interesting are the ones who belong to the last category. They are the ones in a twilight zone. They either have excess intelligence that trips down the over brimmed cup and thus all their precious time is wasted in recollecting those fallen drops or their empty headedness is to such alarming degree that all their time is spent in understanding what to understand.
There is no problem under the sun that cannot be solved and no solution is the perfect solution to any problem
Writing essays, poems, songs, short stories, novels, discourses, dissertations, theses, lectures and what not is still somehow achievable but drama—‘noibo noibo cho’. It is perhaps the most difficult among these and those who accomplish in this Herculean task are blessed souls I must say.
People tend to become less serious with each passing day contrary to what is popularly believed as age instills maturity(that no belief is absolute is perhaps established).
‘Jai Ho’ concert was not overwhelmingly impressive but obviously entertaining and paisa wasool not withstanding those few dozens of expletives that some very music lovers used on and off when a laralappa track shifted to a softer one.
I was literally in tears on two very recent occasions: Firstly, when the author of the drama ‘WIRE’ was introduced before the audience by Dr. Lal and secondly, when I saw Rahman touching the Harmonium and offering his ‘pronam’ (I’m either unaware of the English term or currently unable to recollect from my poor memory). Music students can very well relate to my emotion.
My PC has been infested with 124 unfixable, unquarantinable and undeletable bugs and is in a state of incubation period that will make transition to a state of bug flu and there is no tami flu for its cure.
I detest people who don’t read fiction and I equally detest those who read nothing other than academic texts.
I’m in plain and simple terms a stupid, headless bloke who is stupid enough to write these stupid things but it’s also a matter of fact that I would rather happily keep embracing stupidity than be a goddamned intellectual or in better words an ‘atel-ectual’.
‘Kartik masher sesh ar ohono thandar nam gandho nai’ is what my soul mate, my grand mom is saying these days. I distinctly remember those days when Kali pujo’s night would be the first ‘katha gaye debar’ night and the subsequent days would subsequently gain in chill momentum. Those were the days! God knows what went sour in the relationship between Kolkata and winter.
Those who are reserved by nature are in reality very open and candid. Their reticence is situation specific, the right situation can bring out the most talkative from an otherwise quiet person
I don’t understand the meaning or rather the ocean of meanings associated with words ending in ‘ism’ viz- romanticism, transcendentalism, nihilism and so on. I have high respect for those who have mastered in these understandings.
Political parties who believe in constitutional form of government can never serve any fruitful purpose for any nation and thus no progress (if that is a suitable term) can ever be achieved. It holds good for India and hence West Bengal too. The deplorable and highly contemptible state of affairs that the Congress dwelled in bore fruit for CPIM to find their way in people’s heart and today when the so called communists’ uncovering of their ugly face is the perfect Sun that TMC is using to make hay and the cycle goes on….
Few thoughts on Tagore- Firstly, obsession with Tagore is perhaps the sweetest disease that one should at some point in their life get. It is that supreme disease which serves as the healer to every worldly disease.
Secondly Rabindranath is one such name that can be possessed by only one man in this world and no individual how popular he might be is entitled to use that name. Hence I hate people like Rabindranath Basu, Rabindranath Chatterjee or Rabindranath Bag.
Thirdly Rabindrasangeet cannot be taught. Schools which proclaim themselves as the hub of Rabindrasangeet are the most goddamned institutes who teach nothing more than ‘komol Ni’ or ‘kori Ma’. They extract the plethora of essence from those songs and throw them into Adi Ganga.
Hindi movies jug jug jiyo is what I keep saying how disapproving and bally it might sound to my fellow JUDEans.
I detest those who stay in India, are born and brought up in India and shall keep staying here for their lifetime yet everything Indian is,’ my foot’ and everything western is, ‘OMG!’ to them. The only feeling that goes out for them is sheer pity.
Two equally talented people can never exist in partnership (exceptions not in consideration). There is bound to be clashes on some issues or the other and that steadily loosens the bond. I don’t know about relationships but it definitely true for people in partnership enterprise ( Jatin-Lalit, Sidhu-Pota)
God is very much in existence and is an omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent being. This is not what I believe in but Trust. I feel no absolute compulsions to provide any sort of ‘koifiot’ to those who don’t think like me and I also feel that there is no necessity for anyone to justify their point of view however challenging it might seem.
The first time smokers make it a point to make their new activity a very surreptitious one out of a very strange reason. They fear being an outcaste among their kinship but never fear their quickly approaching end. It is as if the tag of a smoker will lower their image or reputation without once caring for the real cause. How very strange!!!
No matter how old a resident of Salt Lake a person is, he/she is bound to get lost in the infinite labyrinth of that mysterious lake at some point of time.
Bengalis had always referred to this city as Kolkata from time immemorial and for the Nons it was always and still is Calcutta. Thus the official change in name has served no purpose in reality except the envelopes reading ‘Kolkata’.
No night club in Kolkata houses as lousy and loathsome crowd as ‘Sisha’ does. One who has been to Sisha on any 31st night will surely empathize with me.
All those who sport long, jhakra chul are bound to be guitarists or are in the making. Our own Lal bears testimony to my claim.
If ‘bad hair day’ is not a gender specific term then I must say that I’m having a bad hair year. My hair is growing and growing and I’m too lazy to put a stop to that growth and it is reaching a state of ultimate unkemptness. It’s high time I must do something with it.
An egalitarian society can never be realized in practice and my hopes of a ‘srenihin samaj’ shall never drown however obscure, impractical or unattainable it might seem.
Marx never said or wrote that those who believe in his philosophy should necessarily be an atheist. Thus those who flaunt their atheism on virtue of believing in communism are fools. The real aim of a communist is to set oneself in a voyage in search of ‘Jiboner mane or Beche thakar mane’. And I must say that being a communist is not as easy a task to accomplish as in saying. I believe in communism but am not a communist because I don’t possess that enormous strength.
JU people in general are of extreme types. They either listen to or practice hardcore rock, punk, metal, death metal and what not or Bhajogourango, Krishno korle lila. There are very few who tread the middle path.
‘Manusher protio bishyash harano paap’ ia what I would love to believe in but the absolute futility of the term ‘bishyash’ instills such fear in me that I beg to differ with Tagore and would rather pile up my bag with ‘paap’.
Institutions of any sort tend to get on my nerves after a certain period of time. While in school longing for college days and now in university am looking forward to the day when I’ll draw my first salary. Present never satiates me and future keeps enticing me.
‘Engendering mediocrity since 2004’ is what one of the boards in our department reads and the very sight of it on the very first day filled me with immense joy. Relieved to learn that people of retarded mental faculties do exist in this otherwise intellectual atmosphere.
I stand apart from the rest of JUDE in one aspect if not more. I cannot stand Harry Potter. To me it challenges all sorts of mental, physical, psychological, logical faculties. I keep wondering what enigma glues so many people to that epitome of madness and eccentricity. Thank God it has finally come to an end.
I fail to understand why roadside pay and use toilets are referred to as ‘sulabh’. Don’t we all know that the terms sulabh and toilet are not even remotely close to each other in meaning???
If it is true that we were indeed over marked in our schooldays then why are we under marked in our college days? Can students never expect to be judiciously marked???
Sweety, Monica, champa are names which are a very commonplace among hookers is what I feel and io despise girls who possess such names but do not belong the race of lip painters.
The more I keep digging my brains the more such maddening thoughts are going to spring up. So I must stop digging. Before ending(beginning) I must say that these are all very personal opinions of me and intends no offence in any form to anyone.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
I AM LIVING (& without you)
did I ever love you? I don't really know, I perhaps only celebrated that grand feeling of lovelessness all throughout or it might be something else that I am not aware of. I only died numerous times in you, died in, died out and you left no more space to live. You only allowed me to die. Did you ever teach me love? You didn't for sure. You only asked me to wet your hair, wet your feet, wet your lips and what not but eyes. I wetted them. The world knew me as ‘not a poet’ but you knew me as the poet of bad letters. I never thought or cared much for you except times when I was taken by the obsession of caring besides that Feb affair which in silly mushy terms is called valentines day. Wasn’t I getting used to writing letters with my blood? Anyway that at least proved to be a successful vent for letting out filthy flood of blood that ran all through me. How come your eyes not drop a single ‘boond’ of ‘asu’(if I am not wrong) when I was rotting in that loveless, airless (although air-conditioned) cabin? Not for the sight of my plight but for that poor bed that was bearing the ‘unbearable’ me. I was not for sure popping pills. I thought I had purchased 2-3 files of happiness that can provide me with painless happiness. I must agree that those needles were really hurting but it was even worse when the doctors pushed those 1 yard long ones and I safely returned *sigh*. Oh! I must thank you for providing me with that daily dose of popularly known as tranquilizers which to me are escape route to forget you and I am definitely high on them. And those once a month session of 15 injections that render me immobile are what I eagerly look up to because that provides me with the rare opportunity of my ‘AMMA’ or ‘MAMMA’ feeding me, nursery days come crawling once again. But I don’t like those tears which lurk in the corners of their eyes. I know you are happy and why shouldn’t you be? Now you are warming the coziest NISSAN sit and my poor splendor is now on servicing. One can find oneself in a sea of words to boast of an engineer not an English graduate. Do you still frown when your guy uses profanities as I used to? And what about your hair? Is it still of the same length or has grown longer? Do you still clasp his hand while crossing a road? Does your big bro know him? Believe me I would not have retaliated even if you had not been standing right in front of me while he was helping me with that door-stopper and ruler. You asked me to prove my love and wasn’t that enough? My cricket love came in quite handy as the cause for all that nose and mouth bleeding and the arm fracture was duly based upon Duse ball and untimely diving. And now you send me FB request of ‘what is your stress quotient?’ Don’t you know that I am in JUDE and JUDEans are not supposed to take ‘chaap’. I guess you have offered the biggest possible word of thanks to VODAfone for providing you with ‘screen caller’ option. And now I am still living and living without you, perhaps I never lived with you as such, did I? I only lived with your clasping hand, your popcorn munching teeth, your ‘laagi tumse man ki lagan’ caller tune and of course your yearning for blood but YOU.
did I ever love you? I don't really know, I perhaps only celebrated that grand feeling of lovelessness all throughout or it might be something else that I am not aware of. I only died numerous times in you, died in, died out and you left no more space to live. You only allowed me to die. Did you ever teach me love? You didn't for sure. You only asked me to wet your hair, wet your feet, wet your lips and what not but eyes. I wetted them. The world knew me as ‘not a poet’ but you knew me as the poet of bad letters. I never thought or cared much for you except times when I was taken by the obsession of caring besides that Feb affair which in silly mushy terms is called valentines day. Wasn’t I getting used to writing letters with my blood? Anyway that at least proved to be a successful vent for letting out filthy flood of blood that ran all through me. How come your eyes not drop a single ‘boond’ of ‘asu’(if I am not wrong) when I was rotting in that loveless, airless (although air-conditioned) cabin? Not for the sight of my plight but for that poor bed that was bearing the ‘unbearable’ me. I was not for sure popping pills. I thought I had purchased 2-3 files of happiness that can provide me with painless happiness. I must agree that those needles were really hurting but it was even worse when the doctors pushed those 1 yard long ones and I safely returned *sigh*. Oh! I must thank you for providing me with that daily dose of popularly known as tranquilizers which to me are escape route to forget you and I am definitely high on them. And those once a month session of 15 injections that render me immobile are what I eagerly look up to because that provides me with the rare opportunity of my ‘AMMA’ or ‘MAMMA’ feeding me, nursery days come crawling once again. But I don’t like those tears which lurk in the corners of their eyes. I know you are happy and why shouldn’t you be? Now you are warming the coziest NISSAN sit and my poor splendor is now on servicing. One can find oneself in a sea of words to boast of an engineer not an English graduate. Do you still frown when your guy uses profanities as I used to? And what about your hair? Is it still of the same length or has grown longer? Do you still clasp his hand while crossing a road? Does your big bro know him? Believe me I would not have retaliated even if you had not been standing right in front of me while he was helping me with that door-stopper and ruler. You asked me to prove my love and wasn’t that enough? My cricket love came in quite handy as the cause for all that nose and mouth bleeding and the arm fracture was duly based upon Duse ball and untimely diving. And now you send me FB request of ‘what is your stress quotient?’ Don’t you know that I am in JUDE and JUDEans are not supposed to take ‘chaap’. I guess you have offered the biggest possible word of thanks to VODAfone for providing you with ‘screen caller’ option. And now I am still living and living without you, perhaps I never lived with you as such, did I? I only lived with your clasping hand, your popcorn munching teeth, your ‘laagi tumse man ki lagan’ caller tune and of course your yearning for blood but YOU.
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