eternalHalo

Eight months later

2011-07-19T22:56:00.000-07:00

This is awkward. Kind of. When i had started to blog it was to make sure i could type perfectly and spontaneously. You could say I was getting ready to prepare myself for the TOEFL. just another rung of the ladder for reaching where I have reached at present. Ok, since this is a personal blog, let me give you a few updates now !

This is July 20th 2011. Wednesday. 11.38 a.m.

Eight months ago I was slowly but surely falling in love.

Seven months ago i was studying hard for my exams, absolutely sure i would do well in them.

Six months ago I was sitting in an exam hall, wondering why i hadnt studied as much was required.

Five months ago I was writing a letter to Her, professing my love for her. I also promised her that i would come close to her. And that was difficult because she was/is living in a land far far away.

Four months ago i was again studying for my exams. I was also studying for her exams. Thankfully both of them went well. i passed with honours. She, err.... well she passed !!

Three months back I came to know that I was granted a scholarship. That basically took care of my aspirations and my career. My personal life, as i could be close to Her, and my professional life, as I could finally get a foreign degree.

Two months and fifteen days ago I quit my job. i thank my employers for hiring me, but I had always wanted to study. No salary could keep me away from it.

I said goodbye to Jadavpur University two months back. I finished my course and graduated with honours.

A month and fifteen days ago i had an accident and had twenty stitches on my foot. I am recuperating from the same.

A month back mosquitoes started infesting my room. They bite me as i speak.

A fortnight back She came to my home. It was such a relief to see her. Not exactly the way I imagined it, but nevertheless it was fulfilling.

A week ago I had my twenty second birthday. I spent it with three of the most important people of my life. mom, Dad, and Her.

Four days ago I received my residence card. So now i just have to board the flight and I'll reach there. No frills attached.

Yesterday I installed Linux Mint.

Today my mom cleaned my wound and applied medicine.

Four hours ago I woke up.

Now I must scratch myself in places you shouldnt venture alone at night.

Unbiased and unpersonal

2010-12-17T07:20:00.001-08:00

Learning has alays been an important aspect of our human lives. Classroom learning is a time-tested methodology for imparting education. In the present times, where technology enables us to enrol freely in distance learning and online computer classes where students can take classes and study at their own convenience. Yet, if we consider replacing classroom learning with the latter, I will not support the idea. And I wont, because of the following reasons.

Firstly, the lack of equipment is an issue. Learning is a right to each and every child, to each and every student in the world. And learning through online computer classes requires a computer, and an internet connection. Statistics from all over the world indicate that millions of families do not own a home, have no access to telephones or electricity. There cannot be a substitute for classroom learning, which costs more and gives the same intended output, knowledge.

Moreover, people with the education imparted through distance and online learning courses, often score lesser on the employability scale when compared to their classroom learning counterparts. The reason for this observation is that companies and businesses are, by inherent composition, preferably looking for traditionally educated people. Their businesses are headed by such people and in all likelihood they prefer people like themselves in the company.

Which brings us to the fact that many of these distance and online learning courses are actually not having any accreditation with central regulatory boards of education. With internet fraud being a very common-place incident nowadays, the certification of the courses , and the people teaching them, is certainly an issue. And in practice, this is one area where the distance or online learning courses fail to make the cut. Classroom learning is structured, and it follows a much more rigorous program of selecting teachers. More competent teachers mean better teaching. And better teaching entails better learning opportunities for students.

Finally we focus on the learning experience that a classroom entitles one to. When one is part of a classroom not only does he interact with the teacher, but also with his fellow students. He can interact with them, forming personal as well as professional bonds which may last a lifetime. He also gets the opportunity to discuss about the topics to be learnt and hence shares his knowledge with others, and in return gets a helping of whatever the others have grasped.

Curiosity

2010-10-02T23:04:00.000-07:00

Curiosity killed the cat. And Diptyajit as well. Sometimes truth is so harsh, you want to turn back and can’t fathom it. Have a difficult time accepting it. But now you must decide. Between restraints of your emotions amounting to withdrawal in your shell as you have done in the past. And actually facing it for the first time in your life, knowing fully well the associated perils and anguish its likely to incite. You must contemplate between forgetting your own words including pretending nothing happened. And on the contrary, actually backing up your words with actions. Spend a real “sleepless night”. Thinking, weighing, deciding and facing your fears.

Uncertainity is probably what drives the curious soul. Uncertainity in electronic circuits, uncertainity in flying a helicopter, uncertainity of actually getting what you want. Drives your curiousity to the brink of an important decision. One that you must make with significant influence on your present and the future. It’s easy to “ not be bothered about the past”. Difficult to face it when it stares you down the eye.

There are really just two choices. One to finally learn and be an important person. One to refer to being important during sporadic conversations. The latter involving slow withdrawal, be it against your will to a state where you enquire about well being and studies. Being reduced to someone who only met you in university , or travelled with in a bus. Or a train. The former involving much more. Much more than just be worried about a chipped toe nail or a cold, which one catches while biking on a high cold wind. Much more than choosing electives for courses and being entwined with memories involving rain, inception, spring rolls, Deutschland and random conversations encompassing every thought and issue on the planet.

Four hours staring at the fan on the ceiling. A cup of tea. Pacing up and down the balcony, oblivious to the sounds created by urban chaos. Drowned in thought and decision. Finally sits down on the computer to write and vent out all what he’s been thinking. Decides to actually be there. Actually. Decides that he has to do this. Not by duty or by force, just has to. Has made the one feel again. Has made the one feel alive again. Invigorated the one with the one’s life, the one’s goals, the one’s preferences. The same things without which the one cannot be whole again. He will not back down. He will face his own fears , and the one’s as well.

Wears the sacred thread he was endowed with. Remembers rituals he was taught long ago. Worships the sun, and powers beyond his comprehension. Asks for strength for the times to come. Even though he is sure he has it. Reassures himself. Reassures the one. Will plunge now. Go deeper as ever.

Batten down the hatches! Sound the retreat. Here comes the cavalry !!

“ All in the valley of death .. rode the six hundred”

Butterflies

2010-09-15T01:15:00.001-07:00

I haven't written in quite some time. I lacked the drive. Someone told me to write again. I am making that person the drive.

Life in general is pretty tiring

With problems, assignments and deadlines

Every night you end up perspiring

Still entangled within the same endless vines

While you work, and while you toil

Carelessly you stumble on someone else

Someone who sprout from the same soil

On the beach, collecting the same shells

Life in general is then pretty nice

Every morning you wake up with sunshine

Exploring all the virtue and vice

Utilising all the energy that you can mine

This person it seems was sent from heaven

Who never agrees and always sees

YOU, as you were since you were seven

Who always criticises the colour of your tees

Life in general blossoms in the spring

All your ideas now become possible whims

With that person, even you sprout a wing

Dive off the cliff just to see how the One swims

You make it a point to talk every moment

And the ones you dont is spent in thought

You let yourself be carried by the torrent

Never thinking twice whether you ought

Life in general isnt pretty fair

One day its time for the One to go

Somewhere you cant display your flair

And there isnt a boat you can row

Then the small things matter, then they become big

And all the thoughts and emotions reverb

Cause you cannot ever snap off this twig

The One lives in your city, in the farthest suburb

Life in general now becomes a quest

A means by which you shall reach the end

And the roads might not be to your taste

Yet you're sure you will not bend

When promise and opportunity both together

Strike at the same time on your door

You know you will brave any weather

To be with the One always, to settle the score

LAST WISHES

2010-08-07T21:51:00.000-07:00

Mr.Banerjee found himself behind iron gates. The

old corrugated ones one may find in the so-called

collapsible gates. The back of his skull was aching.

As he helped himself onto his feet, he slowly

started to recall the events of the last hour. He

looked at his grey tuxedo, which was now soiled

with some grime. He recalled looking at his

reflection in the mirror of the liquor store

bathroom. He had ordered a scotch, and was slowly

gulping his drink on a cold January evening in one

of the premier bars in the Park Street Sir Hog’s

market. He was interrupted by a man. He was tall,

judging by the length of his dark brown trench

coat . It was not the habit of a retired high court

judge to trust strangers, but something about the

man was striking. Soon, Mr.Banerjee and the person

were talking. He even bought a drink for the

elderly man, remembered Mr.Banerjee.

“Then what?”, Mr.Banerjee could not remember

anything after that. Now that he finally had got up,

he looked around himself, trying to understand

where he was at the current instant of time. All he

could see was darkness. The pale moonlight of a

1935 winter night came in through the only outlet

for air in the vicinity. Those iron gates. The

smell of roaches and stacked rubbish made the air

detestable, if not unsuitable, for breathing.

Slowly, he made his way towards the streaks of

light which were visible, hoping to catch a breath

of fresh air, as well as make his way out from

wherever this place was. “Darn it! These gates are

locked.” Mr.Banerjee was puzzled.

He held onto the iron contraptions. Rusty, un-oiled,

creaky metallic jingles arose from the same.

Shaking them with the utmost energy he could muster,

he roared “Let me out! You scoundrel! let me out

right now !”

Not a soul answered. Ten minutes later, Mr.Banerjee

was still in the same place. His roar had grown

into a meeker “Help!”, and the dose of adrenaline

his body had managed to secrete , was no longer

working. For the first time in life, he felt

trapped and alone. And he could do nothing about it.

He turned around and now realized where he was. He

was somewhere in Hog’s market. Somewhere in the

labyrinth of shops and lanes and by-lanes. The

smell around him must be from the remains of the

farm produce sold during the entire day.

“ But how did I get here? Didn’t anyone

notice ?” pondered Mr.Banerjee. he found it

illogical to believe that he was , actually inside

a deserted market which was closed and shut down

for the night. And the fact that no-one had noticed

him, not even the night guard when he would have

closed the gates, seemed unlikely. “Then again,

” he said to himself “ If I was lying there

beside that heap, and in the dark corner , it is

reasonable that no-one might see me.” Satisfied

with is logical conclusion, Mr.Banerjee decided to

wait for a few more hours till the shops re-opened.

“Then I will see to it that the watchmen of this

place are taken to task!” he murmured in his mind.

A logical argument failed to calm his nerves.

Mr.Banerjee was not as composed as he wanted

himself to be. The knowledge that he was the only

living soul within a hundred paces of this place

didn’t allow him to be totally carefree. Solitude

wasn’t a thing which Mr.Banerjee was not

acquainted with. But solitude in a dark chilly

alley, with no food or water , and little access to

air and light was surely something he didn’t like.

A muffled slam was suddenly heard. As if somewhere

in the labyrinth, some door had been flung open.

Mr.Banerjee could feel his hair standing upon the

back of his neck. “What was that?” the more he

pondered the more illogical his thoughts became. He

reached a point where he didn’t want to know the

cause of the sound. Even in the cold, his forehead

had small beads of sweat. A definite surge of

adrenaline in his body made his heart beat faster.

There was silence, which lasted for two agonizing

minutes. Then again something could be heard.

A heavy repetitive thud: not too loud. Emanating

from somewhere in the far end of the alley in which

Mr.Banerjee found himself. The wooden floor and the

chilly winter air added a dimension to the element.

The wood adding echoes to the sound and the air

making it sound clearer. “ Who goes there ?”,

deep in his heart , Mr.Banerjee was , actually,

afraid.

A figure was approaching, with a slow and

measured step. The figure was leaning on a stick.

“ Impossible …………”

FLASHBACK

“ The High Court of Calcutta is at session for the

trial of the notorious ‘Gentleman’. Let the

prosecution begin”, Justice Banerjee announced in

a solemn voice.

“ My Lord”, the public prosecutor began, “this

person standing here is a criminal of the highest

degree. His crimes , when summed up, remain the

most brutal and serial homicidal acts in the

history of a hundred years of British Calcutta.”

He paused to catch his breath. Justice Banerjee

flinched in his chair. His powdered wig needed

change , he thought to himself.

The prosecutor continued, “ This man , Richard

Alphonso Wicker , also known as ‘Gentleman’ is

hereby charged with the murder of thirteen servants

of Indian origin throughout a period of six

months.” Justice Banerjee looked at the man. He

was a man with a sickly constitution. Greyed hair.

Eyes which were sunken deep inside their sockets.

Unshaved cheeks. Marked characteristics of alcohol

abuse. His hands were crooked and every aspect of

him made one feel detestation. He stood in a eased

fashion , leaning to a side, as if calmly composed

about his surroundings. The prosecutor continued,

“The mode of murder was grotesque. That was the

murder weapon ,” , he said, pointing to a stick.

Justice Banerjee looked carefully at the object of

interest. It was made from strong ebony , and was

perfectly black. The handle was made with silver.

Heavy and sturdy. “No doubt that this was an

effective murder weapon”, thought Justice Banerjee.

“Does the defendant have anything to say ?”

A meek wry smile formed on the lips of Gentleman.

“ just one thing. There were fifteen. Fifteen

servants who had entered in my service and suffered

death at my hands.”

With eyebrows raised , amidst a shocked courthouse,

Justice Banerjee managed to mumble “Anything

else ?”

“yes, every native I can lay hands upon will

survive a similar fate. You too will die you dog.

Kala kuta !”

With such a cry he jumped, and dashed at Justice

Banerjee. The federal marshals were quicker though.

They apprehended him. And then subdued him.

An hour later, Justice Banerjee was speaking again.

“ By the power vested in me by Her Majesty, the

queen , I hereby find you Richard Alphonso Wicker

guilty of murder of fifteen helpless individuals.

And hereby I condemn you to be hanged to death. To

be hanged, till Death.”

PERIOD

“It can’t be!”, logic agreed with Mr.Banerjee. a

dead man couldn’t walk, and if he had broken out

of prison, Mr.Banerjee would have come to know. The

alley wasn’t as long as Mr.Banerjee had thought it

to be. But there was no mistake. There was the same

back heavy wood stick with the same silver embossed

tip. The same gait Mr.Banerjee recalled from that

day when the court marshals had led him away.

Thirty five years of being a high court judge, and

he had sent only one man to the gallows. It made

Mr.Banerjee spend many a sleepless night before.

But this night was not something he imagined that

would happen.

A muffled hiss like voice could be heard. Now

Mr.Banerjee noticed that this was the same attire

that the tall man in the bar had wore.

“I told u cur, that u would die ….” Jeered the

voice.

“No. this is madness ……………..”

A loud sharp thud. Ripples of the same sound echoed

in the passage: followed by a fainter sound of

something collapsing. Then everything was silent

again.

“This isn’t possible. How does the murderer

manage to bring the dead body in here ?” the

police inspector told the other man. He too was

dressed in the same attire. “Grotesque , if u ask

me” , replied the other, “well something

challenging for you huh ?” the former managed a

smile. All that ranting about monotony, in the

restroom of the police cafeteria, was going to be

tested , this time.

“Wait what’s that !” he exclaimed as he pointed

to a thing. A thin long piece of black wood with a

silver embossed handle lay at the side, as if

someone had tossed it in the corner. He recognized

it immediately. At the academy , every police cadet

had studied that case. Without wasting an instant,

he set out for the correctional facility. He

accessed the records with his own hands. He found

it.

Richard Alphonso Wicker 1930 November 5th

DEATH BY HANGING

Ordered by

Justice K.Banerjee

Status: Carried out as instructed

thanks for the words i love to hear

2010-04-22T09:57:00.000-07:00

You make magic with words

simple and simpler words

that catch the reflection of stars

All along they glow

Like a river flows between our hearts

Dancing to the tune i love to hear.

i always love to feel

Magic is real

Just like moment in the way it is

wash away all that aches

since the nights i hear the train

As cold ,forever, is

Draw me a moment of the sky, with your words

Simple and simpler words

The Return

2010-03-26T19:23:00.000-07:00

i promise to be more active in my blog ... i have been ass and forgotten my one true love. i shall not suffer more

Memories

2009-08-18T23:05:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vj5lm6QSXK0

Blah !!!

2009-08-18T23:03:00.000-07:00

The purpose of existence

2009-06-26T00:07:00.000-07:00

We are like burnt logs of wood, drifting downstream. Now that we have served our purpose , we are allowed to rot, decompose and vanish from view. Downstream is where we go, we flow where the current takes us, not questioning anything, silently , onward to our obvious removal from existence.

Two words, purpose and existence. And so much is said in between. What is the purpose of existence ? What is the existence of purpose ? Abstract nouns, leading to abstract ideas. Abstract because no-one ponders about them. Why bother ? Let us keep moving. Tight-lipped,

un-mindful, without realisation. As we have been , all our lives till now.

Now. The word rings with weight. Denotes energy , denotes action. Now we do what is to be done. What was to be done before. Now , we stop. Now , we think , and not be made to think, and made to believe that it was ourselves that thought. Us , and they. They who manipulate us. They who try to , and are successful at giving us a purpose. Giving us an existence.

Now, we break them. And try to remember. Anything. I remember a few moments in my life. Toy, hatred. anger, humiliation, love. I remember them all. It is strange how these things prioritise themselves in your remembrance. Not the facts. Not the data. But these.

These are it. These are the reasons why we exist. Emotions. Interactions. Being 'human'-like in form,shape and thought. These form the purpose. The purpose of our existence. We exist to feel. We feel to exist.

I will not say everything I am thinking. You do that part for yourself.

That is the existence of purpose .

That is the purpose of existence.

SHE in the evening

2009-04-23T03:54:00.000-07:00

It was nearing dusk, and she was solitary in the long corridor of her college building.
She kept thinking why was she alone !! it wasn't that she disliked company but just at that moment she felt crazily alone she looked in the gathering dusk and decided that she was alone.
A bit more reflection in her own head made it very clear , the fact that she had been always alone.. even though apparently she wasn't.
had she been trying to fool herself she loved her friends but somewhere down the line she had known it all along that she didn't really belong to them.
" Fit in " .. that's what she always tried , graciously she achieved her purpose, but a void remained , she longed someone like her own, who could get everything she was made of.
Indecision was something she was always averse from , because she always looked upon herself as someone who could actually set clear goals and work consistently towards them. She would suck up a little then and now but on the whole she was almost never in a situation like this particular juncture in her life. Perhaps the situation in her mind and her soul was amplified to the extent where the entire surroundings and nature around her aligned themselves , as if they had a spirit of their own , to reflect herself.
She let her hair down. She remembered the time she used to keep long hair, it was a long time ago. Parameters had changed since then , now she was no longer a girl , no longer a kid, she was a woman now. Who wanted purpose, who wanted to see her reflection , and not be dazed.

A voice in the distance.

She turns around, but there is no one there. A figment of her imagination, she says to herself. A stupid figment of her imagination. She had been waiting for this voice for quite a long time. A voice that would resound with her own. Reverberate so that her own would sound louder and clearer. A voice that could get her. A voice that would similar to her own . An unforced voice, which did not take effort on the throat and on the mind. A voice which itself " fits in ".

Voids are created in our minds by our minds. She muses to herself. And she creates another void at the same time. In her heart. That of unfulfilment. That of the voice actually not being there.

Then as the sun slowly sinks below the horizon, she starts to trudge her way home.

A long narrow road outside her college. dusty when windy , and not-so-clean all the time. A heavy over sized bag on her shoulders. She walking in a straight line. She turns around. A dark silhouette in the distance , approaching . " Stupid imaginations stop bothering me ... " she cries.

Tears build up in her eyes. She starts to run. She can hear footsteps . But they don't seem her own. A light hand touches her shoulder. A hand she had never felt before. A hand that made her " feel " for the very first time. She stops. She turns around. She looks up. t is HE...........................

random 69814586

2009-03-02T09:19:00.000-08:00

i know not why the protagonist of most of my ramblings happens to be feminine in form . it maybe because perhaps the strongest people i know are women. readers opine that i am better at writing unlinked aberrant ramblings. in the present i attempt to do the same.

the chastity of a woman. the love of one. they are interlinked. if a woman can, she can place someone in her mind and her heart, devote her entire soul into the same. she can spend years waiting for the person she is in love with. no form of mortal suffering, no form of desire is strong enough to deprive her of that, her chastity remains untouched and pure.now that is power. raw brute power which you know you must bow down to.

yes, you are correct, i am reading SRIKANTA by SARATCHANDRA. the translator's note was that this was a nineteenth century novel. even in this day, at this present moment, i can find meaning and realisation in the same.

the realisation , that i am a coward and a low puny human. anyone waiting for me for " a year or so .." if you still are , please don't. i am not worthy of such devotion. i will run away. i have always ran away. this makes me what i am today. a coward. nothing else.

UPDATES:

i have had a long overdue haircut.

i might start a new blog.

i am currently throwing away my pseudoisms

Crackers in a puddle

2008-12-16T10:09:00.000-08:00

A crescent, green and holy

Dark irons emerge from its nerve

Pierce through a virgin heart

Red. Gushing and frothing arise

And flow in the slope

White rats scurry in haste

Black ants , hither and thither

Run, but to no avail

Darkness spares no-one there

Death by drowning is cruel.

Snubbing off life for reasons

Beyond comprehension is , a sin

No i don’t blame u mortal

I blame HE who does so

Ensnare you ,blind your logic

Curse HIM. No kill HIM

Wait. HE cant be killed

Then put HIM in our hell

Yes , do it right now

Take HIM to trial !!!

FONE CALL

2008-11-16T00:42:00.000-08:00

She:

Hello..

Hello ? …..

…………

hello ?

He:

Hello

She:

Yes , hello ?.....

He:

Get the form for the exam …

She hears :

“ get the …”

<< DISCONNECTED >>

17 seconds

Sometimes changing your sim helps. You get to hear something you wanted to hear for a long time. Her voice.

But there isn’t a long past here. No strong emotions. Nothing. The last year of my life , incidentally , the first of my college life, has been a year of half risings. Of upstarts. Of beginnings. But they don’t bloom. They get snubbed before they even show promise.

random thoughts

2008-11-12T23:16:00.000-08:00

sometimes when we feel that it is our own pride that we are a victim of , that our decisions and perceived notions are determined by this single entity governing our minds and our decisions.

prejudice and logic , a feeling of destituteness, and a sense of belonging. happiness and sorrow. luck and inevitability, lack of interest and pre-supposed attention

everything boils down to something variant with time and space.

we are the sultans of swing........

drifting like a burnt log. existing with the knowledge that we are no longer capable of doing anything. yet still having a desire to fight on..

not be lost... in the maddening crowd.

realisation .. is something i have always yearned for. i remember someone saying that i have my priorities in the right place. that was a long time ago.

we are the nobodies.......

The lonesome siren part II

2008-10-12T23:25:00.001-07:00

The only thing that is constant

In this world, is change itself

Spontaneous thinking , in an instant

And turning over a new leaf.

Said the siren , to herself as

She sat alone on the bank

It seems life always has

Given her opportunities, in black.

" No more pondering , today i jump"

The siren to herself, proclaims

The only way to get out of the slump

And the pain, this life claims.

She is on the boat now, adrift

Evn though she isnt sure

Whether the time had arrived

Whether it was time to be pure

She again lost control, and

Her mind started to wander

Re-visit her 'happy' place, and

Whatever she visioned her to be

Singing , day and night through

Remaining engrossed in the beat

Living in, around, off the music

Spell binding evryone in their seat

Returning home to find someone

Holding out his outstretched hand

An insatiable urge to learn

How good, she really can be !

Whether it was true, that

Something she could give him

In return for the attention

That blossomed in her every whim

That is what she really wants

The siren realizes it now

Not HE who walks out

When the boat is just adrift

Now that she returns to her mind

And sees that she has crossed

The lake that had seemed

To be endless and mossed.

The old bank now is far away

And she feels a reason , not to be afraid

To be brave, and happy

About how her life turned out

As the boat touches the shore

Apprehension still exists

In her mind, like before

She still is wanting more

Unfulfilment , which eats her soul

And cripples her mind, as a parasite

She now feels she has the might

To find someone who would fill that hole

Make her complete, with the song

And fondle her hair, ankle long

She gets up, confident with feelings

Of actually getting whatever there is

This is the new beginning

That she has been waiting for

Leaving the marred past behind

She looks ahead, and walks through the door.

SHE steps off.

SHE has seen the light.

Finally Alone ....

2008-10-07T21:33:00.000-07:00

Have u ever been in a crowd , all alone ? when the faces around you are so unfamiliar tat you stop taking notice ? when you are not even afraid of getting lost , when you know you are the only one you have , and are accountable for ?

Mohashoptomi 6^th October 2008 was such a day that I felt that way. From the morning I was feeling alone and left out. My college friends were busy with their school friends. My school friends ( sigh !) were busy sleeping . they had removed me from their equations since the time I had gone into JU.

When frustration kicks in , you don’t even think correctly. My mom tried to lighten up things by suggesting that I go out with her and her friends. Free food and a lot of unnecessary questions , a lot of them with a sarcastic “oh-you-are-in-ju-while-my-son-isnt “ tone and under meaning…. No thank you …I tell my mom. I sometimes cant stand her friends. Not always, but sometimes.

I just walked out. Grabbed a pair of jeans and a tee ..took my money stash .. and went out. Took the metro to desapriyo park.

The instinctive urge of male human beings approaching the peak of their mating prowess is to stare and ogle at females of their own species. In Bengali , we call it “jhaari” . the feeling is mutual. Females also look for prospective mates . some want it for a temporary dash. Others , who don’t lack sincerity still have a “ for life “ attitude as far as these issues are concerned.

Jhaari is best done when in a unisexual group. An all-guys group or an all-females group. Groups comprise of anything from four to seven members.

When you are a lone soul and have no group of your own, you can walk alone and get noticed only if u have a terrible smell or have an absolutely weird beard and semi-long hair. Or , you can pretend to be in a group. Its easy , in three steps. Step one , identify a group of your own sex who don’t look like un cool geeks. Step two, keep a distance of about sixteen inches from the last person of the same group who is trailing a little behind the entire group( there will always be one ! sometimes two !) and waalaah .. you have your own group in the general view sight.

The disadvantage of having a creative and rational mind is that it never stops working. 24x7 it keeps on working. Give it more food for thought , and it works overtime. But never stops functioning.

Give it a thousand or so faces. And even more manners, snippets of conversation , waving hands and exposed feet. And the mind just does its job. It keeps on making stories, keeps trying to understand, to the point your head starts reeling and you start feeling .. is this the heaven for a casual anthropologist ?

As far as I remember , here is a brief example of what you notice if your head isn’t a confined box of misconceptions about human sexuality and perverted mentality.

A group of boys. Another group of boys. And another. An all-girls group. A queue of people. A ticket box. A man frantically exchanging money with slips of printed paper which you need to show to get onto a trip on the giant revolving machine.

One giant revolving machine. Another giant swinging machine. Lights. Excitement . human emotions abounding plentifully. Fear, happiness , dejection. All packed into one. Faces on the rides ,which betray the feeling of wanting to vomit.

A hot dame with lots of exposure. You feeling that even you could expose that much and not feel so hot(literally!) in the humid and claustrophobic atmosphere. A couple of hot dames. A couple of not so hot dames. Someone who you think you know. Someone you actually know. “ cowlt deenk .. cowlt deenk “ sounds emanating from a makeshift stall. A menu card with ridiculously high-charged prices. Slush on the field. Huge cooking vessels. Cheap biriyani which might get you cholera. actually it depends on your immunity. someone i know confirmed she didn't get cholera. i have heard many get it. so i guess its all relative.

Boys and girls perspiring . you remembering a certain scene from FRIENDS. For no apparent reason. Just remembering in a flash. Small kids on their fathers’ shoulders. Remembering the picture of you and your dad which you still keep in your diary. Everyone out there feels lonely . everyone out there feels empty. You look up .. wishing to see stars . You end up choking yourself by inhaling dust kicked up by the multitude of people.

You take the long way back. Back home. Again the metro. This time it will be different.. you say to yourself. You get off at the station where you are supposed to. Suddenly u feel an urge to do it , fulfil one of your wildest fantasies. In a metro station !. you avail the opposite metro and get off at the next station. You change lanes again and again come back. You go back and forth like this 3-4 times. Time looks so stupid. You point your middle finger at the moments passing by … these same moments that have driven you to the brink of your physical and mental limits.

You are now taking it back. You remember the time in the exam hall. Those last few minutes. Which drove you crazy . Your hand moved faster than hell , your mind stepped into overdrive mode. Now you are wasting those minutes.

TAKE THAT……. TIME !

You finally see an escalator. Everyone is crowding to get on it. You decide .. not today ! today I am not going to be bound by the norms of safety and sanity. No more “ they also serve the ones who wait “ logic. You just dash up the opposite escalator. Ha ha !! just do it …. Not think . just do it!!

You reach home. Listen to dark metal and a bit of new age alternative rock. Go online to find no-one else there. Slump down on your bed. Go off to sleep .

It is only then you realize the truth. The truth that in spite of your friends , In spite of the loves, crushes, past-present-prospective lovers, in spite of your parents, in spite of you cursing the devil , in spite of you hoping that Megadeth is with you ….. you are alone.

Finally, alone……

Remembering

2008-10-02T22:16:00.000-07:00

This is just a trip to a particular event in my life. I have been thinking about it all morning. I might exaggerate facts here and now. Ok. Crappy introduction. Lets get to the meat.

Once upon a time, in a school far far away , there lived a boy. A boy who topped his class. A boy who was the class monitor , and the teacher’s pet. His name was D. he was a power-abusive and proud boy who loved to be in verbal fights with people he considered physically stronger than him.

One fine day , when he was in the sixth grade, he was busy having one of those fights with a certain dumb-ass called H. H was a typical example of a dumb-ass. Broad shoulders. Huge head. No brains. Typical . Well, at one instant of their verbal conversation , H decides he has had enough. Obviously he has! How can he match the superior logical skills and eloquence of his counter-part ? so what does H do? Well simple.

Step 1: H gets up. He yells at D.

Step 2: H folds a steel chair( the old fashioned steel chairs u see in old schools )

(meanwhile : D gets up , ready to face H .. D is brave. He never backs out of a challenging scenario no matter what the odds are of him escaping alive)

Step3 : H raises the steel chair.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMM …. CRAASHHHH ….. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOWWWWWWWW !!!!

This is the reporter reporting live from the scene. It appears that the dumb-ass has done it. He has actually hit D with a steel chair on his skull. D is bleeding. His jet black hair is turning red . dumb-ass is laughing. The evil laugh . u know the “ heee haawww haaa hee haaww haaa” laugh.

Enter the dragon( or rather the fat and equally huge V who is a friend and follower of the forces of freedom and justice .. I mean D)

This is the reporter again. We are live at the scene. It seems that V has forgotten that he is not a big choo-choo train. V charges at H.

What a takedown !!

Take that! u evil laughing dumb-ass. H is down and out for the count. Meanwhile we check on D. here is an update on the condition of D. he is getting all loopy. His vision is slowly getting blurred. He feels as if he is drifting .

Enter the ladies

SS and DC arrive. “ ohhhhhhhhh !!” they shriek. “ bood blood” DC shouts. “ so nowww u give me your attention ?” D thinks to himself. They pour water on D ‘ s face. “ you are going to be all right !” reassures DC. Even now, D has a time for realization. He realizes why female nurses are so much in demand( besidesss the dress !! u pervert .. I was in sixth grade .. man .. ).. D realizes how a few words feminine voices speak can be so reassuring. He branches off .. he now knows why he loves Def Leppard.

They touch him. Fondle him and caress his head, run theitr fingers through his hair. “ I will remember this instance of two girls fondling me at the same time .. all my life ! “ D says to himself. ( who wouldn’t !!)

Cutting the story short . because the rest is really uninteresting . or rather I don’t remember it clearly. Here goes.

D passes out.

Teachers come.

D ‘s parents are called.

D is rushed to a hospital.

D has thirteen stitches on his skull. ( 13 ?? why 13 …. Uhmmmm .. sometimes I hate superstition)

Another short one … impromptu and real life …

Mom :

Abar kobita likhtey bosechis ? porteee boshh !!!

Son :

Uff .. eta kobita bole money hoy tomar ? dekehe jaao naa

Mom:

Bondho kor compeeutaar . bab k bole sob line katiye debo.

Son:

Korchi korchi.

A parting line written in haste.

Harjyot singh. Aka H : you ass ! what were u thinking ??i understand u r dumb and immature … but hit a guy half your size with a steel chair !! u r really the stupidest human being I have met in my life.

Well … another line :

Vishal karnani. Aka V : Thank you for saving my life that day. God knows what the freak would have done to me if u weren’t there.

Mom :

Ami kintu ebar sob taar kachi diye kete felboo

Son :

Eii dekho na .. shutdown .. ei naoo .

P.S. : shhhhhh .. quiet. Listen .. give me comments ok ? …

Mom:

Eiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ekhonooooo ????? mithhhye bolli amayy ???

Son :

Tumi bujhbar ches……………….

The Lonesome Siren

2008-09-21T21:44:00.000-07:00

this is a poem which is for a friend of mine. she told me to write a poem on her .. so i did it. i have tried to catch her in my portrayal. i sincerely feel i got carried away. anyway.. let me know how u like this one... especially U-KNOW-WHO .....

A dark translucent blue lake
Mesmerising a sight, it makes
Silver cool moonlight shimmers on it
And SHE opens her eyes---- a little bit.

She understands everything after
All that she’s been through
And she waits for the rafter
To carry herself across the hue

The wait is a long one
And she lets her mind wander
She remembers the setting sun
The humour, and the laughter.

How she made everyone smile
With her jokes and remarks
Now her own smile is under beguile
Life--- now seems so stark.

All she wanted to was to understand
HE was in desperate need of that
In the end, she just got banned
And turned away from the door mat.

Tears build up in her eyes
And her lungs collapse at the thought
Of him, leaving her in spite
Of all the things she had sought.

She closes her eyes again , she decides
She will let everything out , tonight.
A swooning voice with eloquent grace
And simple charm and steady pace

Slowly it grows, melodies fumble
Overbearing it is, barriers crumble
She is in it, with it, above it
Deeply entwined with her senses----that song.

Drowned in the tune, she opens her eyes
She’s sad no more , she can see the truth.
She realises there are better
No! she herself is better.

She has forgiven him.
Understood and then forgiven.
She is now free, it seems
And again will she soar!

A new place , a new start , a newer moment
Morning has come now, to shine
In its full glory
She is, now, without the torment.

SHE. IS.

FROM her MOUTH

2008-09-19T20:54:00.000-07:00

i was sitting in the first bench in my circuit theory class !!! ( first bench !!!!! ... I ???) but as usual madam was talking about everything that i didnt know or didnt have the capacity to comprehend. so i did what i do best. i listened to her words. and whenever there was an interesting line, i would start off a paragraph with it in my copy. These lines are in BOLD. it might seem incoherent at first but in time , you will get it ....

Why is this pointless existence
Still have no charm at all?
IS useless even useful when
Broken we lie ,after our fall.

Everyone is fed up with
All the crap in this world
Our environment is full of filth
By effluents from mortal gods

Interpreting what that means
An ardent task ,it seems
I want to have a mind
That has eyes and isn't blind

We sleep while we are awake
Pretention - for our own sake
We aggravate our injury
And reduce ourselves to penury

Sprouting wings and flying away
Is not a feasible thing to do
Cry, and pray we may
But all we are left with , is goo

A slimy , sticky new born lizard
Is better than your scarred face
Fix a date with a wizard
And patch up your broken vase(this para was written while i looked at her !)

A source of light no matter how dim
Still provides every soul a hope
Though far away it might seem
A mighty thing it is , to cope.

gratify me with comments ok ?

Rain girl

2008-09-11T10:55:00.000-07:00

When I first laid my eyes on her, it was raining. I was standing on the other side of the road, under a huge umbrella along with other daily commuters who were caught unawares in that flash shower. I saw her. I saw her white t-shirt. It was raining.

Water dripping from her chin. Water dripping from her hair. Water dripping from the umbrella above my head . Water dripping from my hair onto my glasses. My vision getting blurred. She nodding her head. I recall. It was raining.

An empty bus. I rush towards it as soon as I see it. She also rushes.But I do not see her when I run towards the bus. I get on the bus and take a seat. Then again. I see her. And I see her wet white t. I look outside the water drenched windows. It is still raining.

It takes a few more scheduled stops of the bus for her to get a seat. She sits opposite to me. And I stare at her. She isn’t fair or skinny. Yet she is wet and she is beautiful. My sexuality doesn’t get aroused. But my mental faculties are stretched. Have I ever seen something more beautiful than this ? and then I remember the sun rise in Mussourie. Yes ! I say. The bus takes a jerk. I look out the open door and only source of ventilation of the bus. Its still raining.

I follow her big, round and expressive eyes. A thin layer of fat ( or tiredness) lay below them. She looks like a warrior , returning home after sacking a city. So many dead, so much wasted. Yes ! she is tired. I follow her eyes everywhere. A man coughing. The bus conductor’s helper. Bright street lights. Blurry glow signs. An irritating taxi-cab. Me. I keep following those eyes. She turns her head to the left and motions a man to open the windows. Its then that I see that the shower’s intensity has decreased. It was a drizzle now. Its still raining. Technically.

I notice her ring. It’s the same as mine. Ruby stone. Encased in silver. N its not the same. Her is more of an oval shaped thing. Mine is a deformed rectangular cuboid. I start thinking about how we can start off a conversation with the ring. “ hi .. is hat the same ring as mine ? .. yeah !... wow ! hi .. I am raj …… “. Naah. Boring and totally idiotic. I say to myself. It is then that everything happens. HE enters.

HE is lanky and tall. Full shirt with formal trousers .. that’s all that his attire consists of. HE is dry. Must be using a umbrella. HE stands in front. And he blocks my view.

I twist my neck. I roll my eyes. I get into several spine paining postures. I just want to keep looking. The man beside me grunts. Hell ! I don’t care !
Move ! move ! shoos ….
He doesn’t budge. I close my eyes.

The bus jerks again. I open my eyes. HE is sitting. I crane my neck to see her. She gets down. I catch a glimpse of her tee. Its then that I realize.

It has stopped raining.

2008-09-04T19:37:00.000-07:00

i have decided that i will sit under a tree and wait . if i deserve crow shit , so be it. but i am no longer going to take the initiative.

2008-09-04T19:20:00.000-07:00

this is a poem i wrote in my fluid mechanics class on tuesday . apparently the professor was trying to describe the physical appreciation of vortex flow in a semi- turbulent system. i was not getting anything he was speaking . so i left it on my topper Aveek to understand the things in class , while i started to write this . ok i will shut up now !

U , NOT ME !

I forsake my heart and forsake my soul
I lay my heart open for you
Now i am like a day-light mole
And my chest has a red hue.

My thoughts are aimlessly wandering
Yet all roads lead to you
My pride once was towering
Now shattered it is ; due to you.

Give me my peace back
Pay up your due
I just want my mind
To stop thinking about you.

What do you want from me ?
Do you want me to die ?
Do it all at once ...
Not time after time.

Atleast let me leave in honour
( let me ) run away with things that are mine
Yes ! truly i am a goner
My life , a half-filled glass of wine !

2008-09-04T10:30:00.000-07:00

she explicitly said not to call. another candle wicker goes dim and then dies off.

why did i do that ?

2008-08-27T07:31:00.000-07:00

today we all guys from the salt lake campus went to the main campus for all the different " daabi " s and " gherao " .. ( why does our CM say he hates these??) .. n e ways , i ended up shouting slogans which even the road side dogs cared not to hear. i didnt get my five star face on tv.

instead i ended up loitering around JUDE and getting all frustu about how my life could have turned about if i had actually listened to my heart and gone for english honours instead of thinking about my family and all our lives and ending up with engineering.

after that we had even more fun. we had a bunch of first years and i offerd to drop this girl off at her hostel( wicked of me ??) ... but then this other guy was hell bent upon dropping this dame off coz i guess ths guy had this crush on her. now the fact is that i am basically a nice guy and i let people have their way with me. but today i dont know why but i suddenly was unrelenting to give up my space. why ???? why the freaking fohkeeng why was i being an ass ?

i dont know. i guess i was trying to be the alpha male in the group .. like a lion or something ... he he freaaakish ..

on another note , we pulled off ciipus 2008 in a grand way and it was my first team work thing ... ( thank god i didnt screw up !), also my band finished our first recording. sum41 : pieces ... it is perfect ! right now i am trying ac/dc ... adios senoritas

Making choices

2008-07-21T19:26:00.000-07:00

We always have a choice. It depends on us , and only us, whether we make the right one.

The right one …. Hmm … the word right itself is so incorrect and unfair. Its so relative that if you think from three different views , three different “ rights” emerge.

So to make the right choice , we have to choose the right point of view, align ourselves in the right direction. Wow !! another “ right “ we are left to decide on our own.

I guess that is why we are so dependant on media. We like our decisions to be taken by others. We like to be told, “this is the right soap “ , “ this is the right political view “ etc. etc. Perhaps we mundane people prefer to be told what is right.

That is cool ! we are so good at fooling ourselves. We tell ourselves “ I made the right choice today” , but in all reality that choice was some one else’s and we simply adopted it.

When are we going to get out of or own misconceptions? When we stumble upon a lone person blabbering in his blog ? Nope. It’s going to take time. But I am trying to do it .

You should do it too ! trust me … its fun !!

i had a conversation with an individual the other day about work and " lyadh". i liked that conversation as well as the individual( as a whole).

anyways give me comments ok ??

Of mirrors and lust

2008-07-18T21:03:00.000-07:00

Only those who have gone down the rabbit hole have the courage to hold themselves up in front of mirrors.

At the end of the day , when everyone has gone to sleep but you are still wide awake and you stare blankly , u cannot run away. You have to stand in your own mirror and judge , the small things which nobody saw but you did.

You try to justify your actions and you put forward ridiculous claims “others were there” or “I am just a kid I cant do that” or anything which apparently makes u feel guilt free even though you are at fault.

At this exact time u learn to introspect and realise what your actions really meant to do. Why did u do that ? U come to know of it . And the problem is , the truth is often not a very pleasant thing.

You didn’t want to help the old man, you just got up to show the pretty girl on the opposite bench how civic you are!!

Even though you thought you are doing a good deed , now when u think about it , you have actually succumbed to material desires , you have just tried to impress some one , in order to make that person like you. Respect is not such a cheap thing that u can just earn it in a matter of moments. Mutual respect is an even arduous task to achieve.

But useless self criticising is not going to help. All you ever wanted was that someone to truly love you. And now when the rain starts falling and boundaries are breaking you really do not know what to do but submit to whatever your lust speaks. Love or lust ? you keep pondering in your self created mirror in a dark room at two in the morning. But does the reflection give you a clue ? is there a clear reflection ? is there a reflection ? at all ??

Its easy to say “I think its love” , but its easier to say “I think I am in lust”. Lust for what ? is the next question . Physical, material needs ? Do not underestimate your lust. The human body is not the final frontier of your lust. What you have is a lust for LIFE.

For life ?? Lust for life ? What does that mean ? I know you have questions. Do not worry you just haven’t thought enough so you have questions. You love this life of yours. You love the people around you . Even though u think you want the world to part and u get into the crevice , you will run away from an earthquake . you want to live . you want to enjoy. Don’t think about refined thoughts , leave them for forsaken individuals. You are still not forsaken. At least I am there for you !

Start breathing slowly . but deeply. Do it ! Take 3 deep breaths.

3…..

Close your eyes now. Drown in the lust . in your own lust. Let it ensnare your senses . feel it around u like the invisible ether … I am doing that too….

Update

2008-07-18T21:02:00.000-07:00

Firstly apologies for such a late post. Actually I have been caught up with work so much that I didn’t have the time or rather the energy to add to my blog. A general update ..

I am 19 officially now !
I am working quite hard for my college fresher
I have found a new zeal for football: I am playing that everyday.

Besides that , I have also found an e-mail friend by the name of Mandy Chen from China ( yes c-h-i-n-a ). She is 23 and she studies pedagogy . we exchange e-mails and pictures. She is quite cool, though a total nerd like me.

Calcutta Bus Guide

2008-07-06T19:20:00.000-07:00

GUIDE TO

FIRST GETTING ON THE VINTAGE CROWDED PUBLIC BUS

U have a bag on your shoulders. But it feels really light and of no purpose other than to show everyone that u are going to college (or school, or office ). Some days , your head starts reeling and u feel as if u haven’t swallowed everything which was given to u during your ill-timed lunch ( because 10 am is not a time for lunch, people !) if u are lucky and have a caring mom( or even more caring wife ) at home , a very hot Tiffin box is certainly packed in your bag . touching your bag in the wrong place can make the impostor’s hands burn ! “ bag thief repellent food” ….. fancy !!

So u r staring at the signal , and u beg it to become green so that the buses come pouring in. and all this while u r standing under a tree trying to dodge crow shit or u are close to getting boiled alive when u were standing at a hot bus stand … having an advertisement of a semi-naked model sporting gold ornaments. U stare at her and envy her … even you wish u were semi-naked in the heat.

U have done it again ! thought so much that u have lost track of when the buses had started pouring in one-by-one at your feet … literally to sweep u off your feet, or squish u if u are not alert enough. U dodge the buses , while at the same time you keep your eyes open for that one magic number which you are looking for. In due time you see that magic number on a bus , and start running towards it. But what is this ! everyone who were standing beside you in the stand , all of them start running at the same bus ! is this some joke ? same bus …all of these people !

You do not think, you have much more important things , like getting on the bus for a change! Even though you manage to run to the bus , you are dismayed because the bus is already full … well at least to the maximum capacity it is equipped to handle. But if people will hang out of the bus with nothing but one and a half feet on the foot board and claim that they are riding the bus !! its capacity does increase. You also do the same … you get on the bus , I mean you put one foot on the footboard , hold onto a rod and hang on for dear life !

GUIDE TO
GETTING OFF THE BUS AT THE CORRECT TIME WITH ALL YOUR ORGANS AND VALUABLES INTACT

Follow my lead and do everything that I say. You must realize that your first priority at this point of time is to try and squeeze yourself in the more crowded but relatively less jeopardous interior of the bus. That being said , the correct timing and the ruthless “only me” attitude will definitely give you an edge . here is what u do .

Keep your eyes open for any , I mean even the smallest , movement in front of the door. Most probably its someone who is stuck inside and wants to get out at the next stop. Don’t try anything funny while the bus is still moving. Wait for the stop to come. Now, wait for everyone to get off the footboard. In spite of hearing shouts like “ get off the footboard; gate er saamne bhir keno koren” etc, don’t get off the footboard.. at any cost.

As soon as the people get off, its time for us to switch into action. Dash … literally dash inside the interior. I know its dark , sweaty and smells bad , but trust me u cant break a jaw here. And you know the funniest part ? if you are careful enough , u can actually find yourself in a position where holding onto a rod isn’t necessary because you are packed there. So u can enjoy “suspended animation” as well as how a solid molecule feels!

The interior is dark , so its advisable to carry a torch if u suffer from night sickness.

The interior is full of a strange mixture of perfume and bad odour and bad breath. It is advised u carry some smelling salts , just in case u need it. You will also probably end up with a headache due to the scarcity of ventilation ( what happens to me) , u either need to walk for 15 minutes after u get off , or carry a saridon to get rid of the inevitable head ache. I prefer walking . I don’t like drugs. It is also advisable to carry a towel . even if u come from Namibia , trust me this heat is something u have never ever experienced ( and most probably wont again if not you are stuck with something .. your job or studies )

Lets talk of your valuables and their safe guarding. Mobiles and purses are the usual forte. This guide does not cover diamond rings …( ride a car u rich diamond ring wearing individual)…. Out of context.

Important: checking that your valuables are there all the time is not only your fundamental right , but also a necessary step u should take to prevent any loss. If your cell rings inside the bus, just let it ring. You don’t want to flaunt your costly cell in front of the finger smiths in the bus

Ohh ! look ! you are nearing your destination ! its really the standing rule that you must start moving towards the exit when you are about two stops from your destination. It must be mentioned that don’t take the rule for granted. If you are somewhere right inside the bus , three stops is a better option.

Technique : use your ELBOW. Push , shove, balance .. do everything with your elbow. Elbows really help… they are fast and they hurt a lot ! you should also start wriggling like a worm when you come near the exit. This is essential if u want to exit with a bag on your shoulders ! otherwise in all probability your bag remains inside and u come outside !

GUIDE TO

ACTUALLY GETTING OFF AND NOT GETTING KILLED

This is the final part. So lets not hurry and waste all our fun . try not to get on the footboard (again!). there is a high chance you will get pushed off the board and die a very painful death. Try not to hurry. Yeah you are late for your job , or school ,or whatever , but your limbs cost more , trust me.

Taxis and auto rickshaws are something you should keep your eyes open even when u sleep ! needless to say look out for them when u get off. They have a tendency to move very fast in places there isn’t any space to move . getting knocked by a auto rickshaw will not earn u any compensation , sympathy from your loved ones , yes , but its not really worth it !

SO NOW , U R READY. Go out there .. and face the world .. make me proud !

p.s. if u think this is just a very lousy piece of writing , or anything else , please comment. :P

Eternal Dreamer

2008-07-04T20:00:00.000-07:00

Basically I am the sort of person who works in artistic fervours , it means I work in short time intervals , but I am deeply involved in my work , and I don’t eat , I don’t sleep , I don’t even pee .. when I am really doing something.
When u look up to someone as “ the guy” in some field … in your own eyes , then a few words of encouragement from the same can do wonders. For example , if your maths sir whom u adore , tells u , “ kid u can do something in maths” , then at least I guarantee that u will go back that day and study maths all evening.
So when the poet guy Charbak comes along and tells me that my puny poem is “quite good” … I enter into another of my artistic fervours and write a poem, again.
This one is all about dreams , and their eventualities

I stood on the pavement, and stared at the palace
Nothing but a tattered overcoat. Patched with rags
On my shoulders remained. I had tried hard
And I had failed , losing everything in the process
My belly feels numb: my voice ,stuck with gags
My head is reeling, my mind is racing, I feel nothing
I pass out ……………..

I am back again , in my shanty outside the city
I see my amateur acting laurels on my cot
I can see myself taking my parents blessings
I am going out on a journey , rather a mission
I am resigned to hard and tenacious work, at all times
I am ready to do anything it takes
I will enter the palace , and I will become king!

I see myself journey to the city , alone
I reach it in the dead of the night. Its dark but
I am motivated far more than to fear a lone road
I look for a place to place my head. Tomorrow
I will go to the palace , tomorrow I will start it all
I wake early next day , to find myself robbed . but
I don’t worry. They haven’t taken me , I say.

I stand in front of the palace and look up
I marvel at its high arch, just like in the pictures!
I say to myself while I smile and wonder .
I am a petty sight . red brocade overcoat and no money
I don’t think , I just enter the gates .once inside
I take a good look at my paradise , my dream
I am finally here , no turning back … I think .

My name ? Gary Myers . u want to know ?
My dream ? to be a movie star ..no a starlet
My palace ? the world’s biggest movie studio
My dad ? peasant and trader. All this is
My lunacy ? no its not. At least for me .
My current job? None , except dreaming about
My next job ..that of a star ! a reel deal !

When I am standing at the door and thinking
All this , I don’t see that some people are staring
I remember now to start showing my laurels
Carefully collected and sorted , but they are gone !
Exasperated , I curse the evil soul who has done this
But here come the security of the palace
They are big, burly and have an unforgiving look

I try to run . you are not taking this away too
This is mine. It always was. But they hunt me down
They pick me up , and throw me out …nay toss me out
I fall on the pavement , my nose bleeds
And a pair of teeth get spilled on the sidewalk
I get up . my pride wounded and dreams shattered.
Wait ! I don’t remember getting kicked ……

The fellow is still alive ! heat exhaustion !
I catch snippets of conversations. I open my eyes
And the kicking stops. Are u alright ? someone asks me
I grin … a semi toothed grin… yes sir ! I am
I am helped onto my feet . I see a crowd of people staring
Some are taking photos … I realize that I have done it !
I am a star ! my dream is realized ! I am beyond happiness.

( next day )

I stood on the pavement , and stared at the palace
Nothing but a tattered overcoat . patched with rags
On my shoulders remained. I had tried hard
And I had failed , losing everything in the process
My belly feels numb: my voice ,stuck with gags
My head is reeling , my mind is racing , I feel nothing
I pass out …………….. Again !

acidVox 5/07/08

Real reeling

2008-07-03T19:54:00.000-07:00

So last time around I told you all about the happiest feelings of life : kochi prem

Today I will speak of the most painful feeling of life( according to me). No , its not when your new love breaks , its rather more complicated.

Actually due to some reasons , which I don’t want to be asked, last night I felt this particular feeling. U know ? when you are so sad that you want to cry like hell and damn it ! your tears don’t come out !

It hurts man ! its like someone put some air in between your throat and your chest , and he started to pump it in , increasing that pressure , going on and on till u reaaly feel hurt badly. And do you know the shi**y part about this ? u still cant cry !

Coming back to me, I don’t know if you are not comfortable with a guy accepting the fact that he was ready to cry ! but I am like that. U think I am a wimp ? let me know .

So what does acidVox do ? he is not going to lie there and cry all day ( I mean night !).

I get up. Drink a lot of water ( a lot means around a litre !) and I start pacing up and down in the dark room. My mind is in hyper-crap-thinking mode. But I rationalize and reach certain conclusions. I remember saying this in rimz’s blog ( or maybe mine). It is important how fast we can cool down and take control of our minds, because the longer we take to do so, the more trouble we a re liable to land into.

As usual I needed music. But its around 1 am in the morning! I cant switch on the computer. So I trust my mp3 player. And what do u expect? Scorpions. Aomi are u listening ?? I mean god is so cruel ! Sometimes. All I need that time is some death metal Slayer , Pantera ,Purple revolver anything to rack my brains up and make me dizzy , and what does my mp3 player have for me ? Scorpions and their usual genre of songs ( still loving u , leaving u …. Etc)

I mean “sh*t” . the topic I want to avoid … they just make it coming back again.

Trust me , when u have the feelings as I described and your earphones blare out a sad song which has “ still loving u” as its theme , I don’t care if u are Sly Stallone , you are going to weep, unless of course you are deaf ! so obviously acidVox does the inevitable. I cry like a baby!

Ha ha …. Me .. yes I weep at night. So think dudettes and dudes what kind of individual’s blog are u reading ! haha … guess I am a real time guy !

I wanted to say many more things, I know u r not going to be satisfied with so little information. But I don’t know why , but hiding information is something in vogue these days. Haute couture ….. if I remember French correctly ! so ill just play my part!

If u have ever felt this kind of feeling, can u (if u want to) share it with me? Comments are welcome, as always.

As for me .. I will just do a blog surfing while listening to Cannibal Corpse! Death metal and ferluci .. I accept your sovereignty over me !

Kochi prem( new love)

2008-07-03T00:45:00.000-07:00

This is a poem I wrote just now. Its purpose is to fill up my blog with comments of how bad I am at writing poems. There are 32 lines (my failed attempt to make it a sonnet !) its all about feelings and real emotions we feel when we really fall in love, not the showy “look-i-got-a-gf” kind of love, but the real deal. Don’t like crap at the beginning? Ok I’ll just shut up.

When your thoughts wander
And your heart skips a beat
When your ears stand out
In spite of the heat
When your head reels
And your doubts are resolved
Bliss! u say to yourself
Not knowing what it is.
Ur cell needs a recharge
Ur pocket too
But all u want to do
Is talk the night through
your mind is in “ happy “ mode
And u feel like god
Before even thinking
That u r mortal

u feel omnipotent
and everything is in control
at least in your dreams
woven with mirth’s strings
u write poems just to see
and convince yourself
that all this is free’
how foolish art thou !
to feel like this
not knowing when to strike
and when to relent
control ? it’s a forgotten word
topsy turvy is your world
yourself , are at bliss
on top of the topsy turvy world
At no cost will u miss.

History

2008-07-01T04:04:00.000-07:00

Don’t be afraid. I am not going to start give a description of how Kolkata was born .If u have been reading my blog, its no secret. I am a geek , simple minded , down to earth , truth-up-your-face kind of a geek. Lets not rumble anymore , its time to thunder.

In my last history exam I got 94 ( as if u didn’t guess that !). i don’t know any dialogues with the word history: though “ sundor thobratar history baniye debo “ sounds pretty good.

What I am going to do is dig up the past. Dig up my puny, mundane and ordinary life. Which I had recorded now and then in the pages of my diary. I will just give an account of some pieces which touch my heart and seem important to me. I will also add a few side notes for everyone to understand.

3rd june 2002

I have decided to write a diary. To protect its privacy I will write it in Greek.
That is all I have to say.

I was actually a kid that time. How I managed to concoct this plan I don’t know. (I actually used greek alphabets and a English language) Maybe I was trying to become da Vinci or something.

13th September 2003

Last night my grandmother passed away. She was a cancer patient. I wept bad, very bad. I will miss u! Love, grandson

No comments

3rd June 2004

I destroyed my mom’s simcard. I got whacked by a shoe when she came back.

What i did was that I locked the PIN of the sim. Then I forgot the damn number and punched in wrong combinations. So the sim somehow entered “AUTO MELTDOWN” or something. I remember throwing my mom’s shoes in the drain that night!

16th July 2004

Today was inter-house quiz. P4 wasn’t there. So we managed to come in 2nd. But we all love it. Everybody got a fair chance.

P4 : problem child 4 , just a funny name I gave to a classmate who was immensely talented and I couldn’t stand at all. (Still can’t!)

31st march 2005

Enough for plane designs , and co-curricular activities. I am now in class eleven. Here starts the real journey called life. I am aware that my actions hereon will determine the path my career will take. No more intelligence, “ faanki” . only long and diligent study is what I need to do. I will forget television and movies. I will study.

Just some high end crap from some low end kid! Seriously “forget television “?? Get real mini-me.. That is not possible! ha ha !

3rd April 2006

Today in the morning thammaa went for an xray. She has fractured something. But I am diptya.. and I make the rules around here. Mom says dad has no mediclaim. Loads of money will be spent on thamma s care only. MY DAD CANT AFFORD A PRIVATE COLLEGE. I have to get a chance in the government college. And I will study, keeping in mind that many have succeeded achieving greater goals in much more challenging situations. Aami porbo aar ami jitbo.

No fun here guys! I was serious and I really did think all this. Note for anyone who thinks iam not brave… it takes balls to actually mean something like that and start life from the next day with just 1 goal in mind ! to speak lightly … did shahrukh steal the last line and made it korbo lorbo jitbo rey ?? I must sue him !

19th April 2007

U know I have made so many promises in my diary to u .today I am thinking why I wasted two years of my life? Why didn’t I study like a fool ? in one way its cool. Now I am thinking that ill study from home and go to BESU or JU and study electronics.

For the record wbjee date for 2007 was 21st april. So this entry is 2 days ahead of the exam and I sound so damn confident of success. I don’t know…but I sound relaxed. He he … relaxed and decided what to do after my exams just before it …. Not many can do that I guess !! 21st may 2007

Yesterday was the turning point of my life ! I did it ! I have entered JU. World … look out .. here I come !!!

Crappy sounds of joy ..

Still with me ? wow ! if u read so much and are not bored please encourage or discourage me on what u would like to hear besides puny incidents of my pathetic life ! in other words … comment please.

Geography

2008-06-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

In my last geography exam I got 94 ( icse 2005).

“ thobraar geography palte debo” is one of my favourite dialogues.

The geography of my place of residence is moderately flat , on relatively higher ground. Let me tell u something about where I live. I live in north kolkata. Here people live in dingy ancestral flats and homes which have been there in their families for years. The shops are owned by people whose dads and granddads were in the same shop.

The apartments over her have no security guards. There is cat shit every now and then that litters the stairs. Foul smell comes from it , but nobody cares. Everybody is used to it. There is no parking space , people just do that in the streets. Here in the north we don’t have pizza … we have bread and butter instead.

Simple people and puny lives. That’s what the north is all about . parents here don’t want their children to have businesses and become millionaires, they want them to study. Kids out here have two options : doctor or engineer . no fashion designer , chef or models from up these parts. Over here we don’t get computers before we are 18 and our father can afford that. Life begins early here, 5.30 am to be sharp. You might be thinking “that’s midnight !” , well what to say this is the north. We ride in cramped up buses who charge fares according to conductors. One charges 4 , the other charges 6. we like the metro. Its fast and cheap. We are used to heat and sweat.

Studying in an English medium is still a status symbol here. Kids are pushed and egged to perform in school. First they do it cause their fathers tells them to. Then , when their minds and eyes start co-ordinating , they study cause they understand what their fathers really are. They understand the scenario , the fact that their dad has no provident fund , that he will never win a lottery and that the kid himself is the only shot his parents have got.

We don’t buy music here. We loan . we use the radio . we watch very few movies. Quite a few on dvd. The joint entrance exam is the “ make or break” thing here. U do it , everbody loves u . u don’t , u yourself will get bored listening to how useless your existence is. Life is quite slow , but rhythmical here. Life on the edge ? yaa, the edge of middle class morality , the edge of a happy life( by happy I mean earning more than my father does, just that !). the restaurants are so dark that u cat really see what u are eating. They are air conditioned , but dark ! I doubt whether that’s ambience or a practical way to hide that there is no chicken in the chicken soup.

Now times are changing. The new breed of professionals who work in sector five are becoming richer. They still travel in their company bus, which has signs like TCS Shyambajar etc. but they are alleviating the scenario. Their parents are happier (more than happy!) their( new breed) kids go to pre primary schools and don’t use “ slate-pencil-chalk”. The roads are getting revamped (at a very slow rate), especially dakhshineswar , which , now looks classy !

The new breed is buying cars , and going to A-M-E-R-I-C-A ( another status symbol for parents !). what they are doing there is of no importance to the poor old parents who trust their siblings with all eyes closed . and what do the siblings do ? they plan. They loan . and they go to salt lake. And then they drive their parents out. And they sell their old home to get rid of the loan for their salt lake home. Some of the new breed are smarter. They go to Hyderabad and to Bangalore. And then “ western union money transfer” is the only way they interact with their familia.

Many people will have a lot to say like “ all this is crap, the north isn’t so bad !” .to them , this is what ive seen for the last 19 years of my life. Either I am ignorant of what u say, or what u say matters to u , and not the majority.

Its true I have a hard and more extreme outlook to the things around me. So in reality , the north isn’t really so bad ! u should come and visit it sometime ! really u should ! trust me !

That shit*y feeling

2008-06-29T01:44:00.000-07:00

I return from the café feeling like sh#t . in the café I had been browsing through blogs . u know …not people like me who blog for “ hey look at me !! “ kind of attention , not people like me who blog to prepare for enhancing writing skills required to give exams. I go through these blogs of incredible people. I don’t care what they look like in real life , their mentality is so standard, their thoughts are so impregnated with truth and feelings and emotions.

I go through rhea silvia s blog , I go through zephyr s blog , I fiddle with the blog of people who are my age , and who blog just for the sake of it. And I feel like sh#t , when I realize I am just not good enough. No I am not , I can post weird “ awesome man !” kind of comments in anonymous tag : but in reality nobody thinks I am that. My friends , A and M tell me that I write good , P congratulates me when I call her up at night , but I understand that I am simply second rate . Accepting that has been my problem all my life. “You are not good enough!” the most dreaded words for me. And what have I done all my life when people have said it ? I have worked harder and literally melted my a$$ , not ate , not slept , forgotten where I am , what I am … and I have simply worked to become good enough for them who thought I wasn’t .

I return home and call P . She gives me news that makes me feel even more like sh*t . It turns out that her mother has scolded her, and that too because of my irrationality.. my idiotic messages on a certain social networking site. Poor poor P ! she gets scolded by her mom , and her exams are near … and I am causing all this diversion to her already overloaded mind . Forgive me P . I am really sorry.

I have lunch. I stop feeling like sh*t . After all, we are talking of ‘ robibarer mansho bhaat” , if u are not a middle class bengo , u wouldn’t understand. Its not the elixir of life, but when u wait and wait for an entire week for something this good … it rids u of all your sorrow and delusions.

I guess I have changed with my surroundings, adapted and rationalized and perfected. New ideas like “lyaadh” and “ daabi” u know typical JU stuff have become important. But now I am thinking of some other changes. Changes like me shouting at my mom. Like me talking to my dad in a way I wasn’t used to. Am I just plain and simple weird or are there dudes and dudettes like me who sometimes feel like sh*t , sometimes shout at their parents and sometimes stay awake at the dead of the night talking to people whom we feel understand us ?

I know this is not answers.com . but if u have managed to come to the end of this delirious random abstract piece of my mind , then it is my plea ( I beg u !) , to let me know … are u able to identify with me .. a little bit ? Even a tiny bit?? Let me know …comments are invited.

Gaawdd everything is burning !!

2008-06-27T08:24:00.000-07:00

Suddenly in the evening I decide that I have to cook maggi ( not maagi !) and eat. I don’t listen to my mom , “ no I will do it myself !” I speak out firmly. After all a grown up guy, I mean man , has to start looking after himself right ?

So I go and ask the shopkeeper “ how much ? for one maggi ?” the shopkeeper looks at me through his half rimmed glasses which need changing , and smiles wickedly; u know those narrow smiles which say so less and tell so more . “ maggi !!! “ I shout in his ears to make my point and dispel any doubts in his mind. Having completed the transaction I returned home.

So there I am , greatest chef of the century cooking maggi , whats the tagline ? yes I remember “ kholo , ubalo aur khalo “ ha ha.. so easy. But I am noy going to do that right ? I remember this chef I had seen in tv who spoke of “ experimenting with gastonomical delights” , so I also start experimenting… with chillies !

There are so many chillies, fat ones , small ones , round ones , red ones … even some people are there like chillies. Well for one thing is common to them all.

THEY BURN ! I slice the chillies , right through the middle making a symmetric cut … “ they smell nice” I say to myself. I hold them in my hand and sprinkle , yes , sprinkle, them over my almost done maggi noodles. And then I rub my hand on my forehead ( I am sweating like a pig ) . and u know what happens ? IT BURNS !

My forehead is burning… I wash it with water …” aaaoooooowww” its no use its still burning. Suddenly I feel this tremendous urge to pee ! but I cant go ! cause if I do the maggi will get burnt ! so my forehead is burning and the maggi is burning. But I am not giving up ! I stir the noodles, I check the water level , I see that the plate is ready … and all this , while I am desperately wanting to go somewhere else. No surprise , some part of mine starts burning. So my forehead is burning, the maggi is burning and something else is burning. Gaawdd everything is burning !!

I don’t know how I manage to eat the tremendously hot maggi on a tremendously and equally hot evening, but I pull it off. “Great show boy ! I mean man !” ,I say to myself. And I do something I do best. I blog and make u laugh !

p.s. some part of me : understand on your own !! otherwise i will be censored !!

Slump

2008-06-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

thats what a long session wid Slayer can do to u !

anyways people who were confused wid my post HYSTERIA , here are a few facts . Gavaskar is just a collge friend , probably my best mate in college. his name is actually Rohan , and he is wickedly great with table tennis. the first time i met him i gave him this name " Gavaskar " , i dont know why , probably because he resembled a sport person.

when u look at this pic beside the post , what s the word that comes to your mind instantly ? please readers let me know .. one word that is it . comment in my blog.

i guess i also have to thank rob sheridian for this awesome example of digital photography ! any ways someone told me late last night ( or was it early this morning ? ) that i am over doing this blogging stuff : what can i do ? if i dont blog , ill become this specimen of interest beside u ---->

any ways dudes and dudettes remember to tell me the first word in your mind ..ok ? waiting for your delicious comments its acidVox signing off

Hysteria

2008-06-26T06:15:00.000-07:00

Right now I am just trying to break my head and spill out my brains , thanks to SEPULTURA , they are so helpful at these times. I am feeling just so idiotic and useless. What have I done in my life ? nothiiing that’s right …nothing. In the afternoon Gavaskar came along . he called me up, said he wanted to “ explain “ stuff to me . great , so I go to this place near my home and I am wearing shorts which literally fall off if I run too fast , and there is Gavaskar with a dame. It was so obvious, I am so lame ..no explanations required I get th point , you have come to my home and u will remain there for like upto 5 pm .. playing stupid games ( seriously , who will believe that lame excuse )…. That’s what I have to report if your mom calls up right ? and all that time when I am busy defeating Manchester united with a Chelsea squad which does not resemble the real one ( relax fifa 08 guys !) , youu Gavaskar run around courting your south city college dame ….
Needless to say I am in a foul mood when I return after hearing Gavaskar s “ stuff “ … and I end up shouting at my mother for ruining my life by making me score good in school !!
Naa seriously .. I did not have a old flame in high school … why ?? I was f###g busy to work my ass off and get into a good college. And now that I am here … now what ? I am again f####g busy to work , and fill up forms , and apply for visa and do other menial work to get my ass into some bigshot university for my ,masters.
Wow !! the roxvox of sepultura can really shout ! wonder if he is a frustrated geek like me ! naah …. Any ways I have decided its high time for me to get up and START SHOUTING…. I saw some one’s comment at sumit’s blog ; it said “ BANG BANG BANG “ that’s what we need to do with our monotonous life.
Just switched on Christ illusion by Slayer … does the computer know what to play ?? thanks my friend .. u r my pc u r my friend … u r cool.
Naah ! I cant go on, my head is reeling already ! and what do u guess ? Pantera is waiting !! feels good .. feels like u are in control of your mind.

Regards to ferluci .. acidVox signing off

Acid bulb part 2

2008-06-25T19:37:00.000-07:00

It might appear that utter foolishness and impossible dreams urge me to start writing on a mature topic such as this. But if I speak truly, personal reflections and thoughts about these things have forced me to write what I am doing right now. The thoughts keep bothering me all the time. The only way to let out the steam is to write it down.

The reader must know that I have tried to represent actual facts through my self-degrading writings. My anger, vented out in this fashion, is not directed to any particular person but to the entire creed of a criticised class. I express my most humble apologies for not knowing the political scenario of the plethora of democratic nations , but I have to say , if it is the same as in India or rather west Bengal , it is surely not delectable.

Visualize this- a student , aspiring to reach the topmost rung of success, has to bear with 730 politicians who are trying to blow their lungs out, and has to study for his board exams , and pursue higher studies- amidst all that noise and disturbance !!

May everyone else have deliverance from such inhuman behaviour !

p.s. these posts were originally written by me on the evening before my history and civics exam in class ten . god knows how i managed 94 in it , considering that i was so busy venting out my anger the earlier evening .... if god doesn't know i guess ferluci does !!

Acid bulb - part 1

2008-06-25T19:11:00.000-07:00

In the dominant political scenario there is never an equipoise of power------ before the elections, forget it; during it, there is (considering the immense political force stationed at every nook and corner and an excess at the various polling booths), after it--- if u live in India, you just cannot ask for it.

Perhaps, the most vibrant display of this can be found in the various banners enlightening our roads. But wait; there is not only one language or colour trying to spread the message to everyone. You will find magnificent fluorescent coloured writings, in various fonts, giving optical illusions etc, and you will have the same message written side by side in two, sometimes three, languages. Call it the “dance of democracy “ or the effort to eradicate illiteracy in a practical way” …I just wonder what impression this offal trash leaves on the citizens of civilised nations who come to visit our country.

The criticised class would say, in a firm voice, booming with authority, “ the constitution of India provides mass propaganda etc etc”. I am never attempting to devalue our constitution in any meagre way, but to just make my point let me say this. I AM FED UP. I am fed up of trying to prepare for a competitive examination where I try to oust a lakh of equally deserving candidates… while 367 members of the criticised class shout at the top of their voice … which is amplified by mikes and loudspeakers, for 365 days of the year.

If u want to , hang me !! at least I will die a martyr !!

Being Unsuccesful

2008-06-23T07:34:00.000-07:00

this is a poem which i had written some time back after i had not come first in my class !! i know it was crazy to say that i had become unsuccesful in life .. but at that moment it felt like that ... its hard to introspect ..it brings out the truth and makes u stare blankly at your own stupidity.. anyway here goes ....

Sometimes in life u don't get what u want,

U pray boast sacrifice and flaunt,

but before u realize everything is a waste ,

And u realize that failure is bitter to taste,

Your dream has suddenly died ,

Whose living should have plied ,

And twisted your fate ,

So u could be happy and not full of hate,

Towards the world state and feelings ,

Of being unsuccesful, unfruitful tillings,

And how do i know so much andtell so much u ask ?

Well i have been unsuccesful a few times ,

And it was a gruelling task,

The pain finally has to end,

And this message to u i send.

Introduction

2008-06-22T21:00:00.000-07:00

acidVox : who is he ? whats the funny name for ? why is he starting a blog ?

acid : chemically corrosive substance
Vox : vocals-voice

so acidVox means a dude whose voice is like acid .. one whose words leave a permanent scar ... a blot on your heart. one of his acidVox s friends tells .. " this is a guy u just can't ignore... he is like one of those paintings in a gallery which suddenly jarrs ur senses "
i like that , having a real ability to catch people's attention making them look at you and try to understand u . it feels great when u can catch hold of people's faces and turn them so they look straight at u .... and the n have no option but to present the truth , because the truth must come out , sooner or later.

blogging and acidVox : yeah he has been writing , in his diary all these years. blogging .. naah this is acidVox's first time. why? well he needs to let the worl know...that he is someone else on the inside .. some part of him thinks, rationalizes and deduces real life in a different way ... he needs to practice , he needs to perfect ....

without further ado ... regards to ferluci and ledzep ... acidVox has entered the building !