Looking through her eyes

I am learning all about my life… by looking through her eyes.

Music crunches you from within, A sense of paranoia which sets those hidden plethora of self inflicted wounds, those piled down blanket of tears , of flushing cheeks ,of those wine red yet undone lips. Vodka + Through her eyes is a deadly combination, ( I haven’t tried it out , maybe somebody should) Pain brings out the best of an artist, so is with this weird cacophony that’s bound to bring tears in your eyes.

She wasn’t given any choice,desperation stole her voice….

I don’t have a clear idea whether the artist had to incur any loss as mentioned in the song, maybe his child had met the same fate ,maybe not , Im gonna Google it out in a few minutes but …haven’t heard much of Dream Theater but this one s really gone deep down ….

Some memorable pictures of Kalbela......

Revolution and the loaded gun....

A year ago one of my "to be" doctor friend complained that seniors from his "to be " college were motivating him to join SFI . The timeline: joint results were out the previous day. I was completely amazed to find the vigour of the union members.

I had been told that a membership in the SF could fetch the M.B.B.S ,a job in the government hospitals in kolkata. Was this a bait ???

Supposedly, everyone of us , infact our generation has grown up learning from our parents that politics with a BIG "P" is the most vile and futile profession any one can dream of. How many Bengali teenagers dream of being a Buddhadeb Bhattacharya or Rahul Gandhi ? I insist on using the word "BENGALI" cause there are friends of mine from Bihar and Jharkhand , passionate about politics aspiring to be a Lalu ( ver 2.0). I am not proud to include myself in that non-ending list of Bengali youth. I had always had a suspicion that something must have happened in the mid era of 70s and 80s , a storm had extinguished the fire inside, the urge to change ,the zeal of constructive energy from our soul. Before that Kolkata had been the powerhouse of youth politics. I have read in a school, supposedly among the best in our district, studied and appeared for a paper in Indian history in the I.C.S.E, but still why has the curriculum been designed in such a way that no one even gets a glimpse of the enormity of the naxalite movement that shook Bengal inside out??

A clever conspiracy of the ruling government? Something to ponder about….

Books are best means to swim through any time zone you want to. Sometimes they do change your outlook towards a specific genre . "All quiet in the western front" by E.M Remarque and "freedom at midnight" fall in that elusive list. And so does KALBELA…

Animesh Mitra , a name which has nothing to do with reality. A failure in life, in carrying out his social responsibilities ,in giving his love that speck of Red dust that every Hindu woman dreams of keeping safe in her forehead. Then what was so special about him that made him the unforgettable protagonist of a simple work of fiction???

Maybe a quality that our breed of GEN-X have stopped inheriting : Pure ,unaltered love for ones country .

What happens when an India Pakistan war rolls? We see our 20 billion praying for one army to win , sending abusive curses to our opponent, but what when the war is against someone who is inside the countries border`s? Someone who has got an Indian visa, an Indian bank account and money of endless Government employees working night and day for bread…Someone who has got a seat in Lok sabha to boast of and a Vip car to disturb the public with its endless alarm roaring in the traffic?

" Tum politics kyon join karma chahte ho ?"

"Arrey yaar, bahut paisa hain isme , tu kya sochta hain main khaak mein engineering ka naukri chod ye sab karoonga?"

God save the mouth which blurted out this inconvenient truth. Had he been born in the age of Mahadebda,and Subas da (active naxalite heads) ….. :D

Were the naxals right in choosing which side of the loaded gun they would face?

Were they right in killing the money sucking swines in the society ,taking the law in their own hands to bring equality in the society ?

Thinking about this I came to one simple conclusion : history wouldn't have been the same if the REVOLUTIONists had got an able national leader , a father figure who could steer the movement agaist the storm just like Mao-tse-Tuang and Fidel Castro .

One simple mistake, maybe calling them "The Naxals " just creates an invisible barrier between the simple middle class man and them, but why do we forget that Studs of Presidency, Scottish church and C.U were the backbone of this movement , the so called "BUDDHI JIBIS" of the society . What was it that had dragged them into this revolution .??

"Love for ones country " , the chromosome missing in our genes now :D.

Kalbela wouldn't be complete without possibly my best dream- woman Madhabilata Mukherjee. Animesh had raised his gun against the society, but Lata had plunged into the revolution ,remaining inside the society facing it, a more difficult task to me . A heck of a woman ! Take my bow Madhabilata , cause you deserve it. Revolution doesn't happen only with a loaded gun ,it happens when people like you comprise of the society….

Animesh was tortured until paralysis by the police, Madhabilata s womb was burnt with a cigar in front of him. But still, the story ends with animesh pondering" where are my fellow comrades? Can I still be of any use to them with my paralysed leg?"

Of what earth are these idols made of ? Idols who lose their world but not their faith. And when they are on move even the strongest bow to their will… Men whose name are avoided in the pages of a history book out of fear, cause their names themselves are enough to rekindle the fire, to start a new revolution….And their story?? Sends a chill down the spine of those sitting on the throne of power..

P.S : Dear reader, if you have read kalbela or have something to share about the naxal movement please do leave a comment… I have been greatly inspired by it and look forward to know more…

Siuri and Sharat

My grandfather and grandma are the best in the world.

They understand each and every unorthodox mentality of a young man which seems ludicrous and intangible to all other adults. I adore them and share with them everything from Madly bangali to Roman holiday ,from sarat chandra to j.k rowling , from the naxalite movement to the recent gay fiasco. I have never seen a more romantic and adventurous doctor other than Dadu.Typing this article, sitting in front of my lappy, on the sands of Mayurakshi I somehow feel that the present generation ‘X’ somehow fades to the grandeur of the youth of 50s and 60s.

Yesterday was a notable day in my life, I had a 3 hour long conversation with my grandparents about their lives . I also read a sarat chandra classic “Anupama r Prem”.

The ‘ Saontals’ are jumping from the bank into the clear water. I had heard that any kind of dust or sand is injurious to laptop s health. But I cant compromise this unique picturesque .Sorry dad.

Many of my friends have commented that they have never visited a village. “GRAM”!! along with the “Nak unchu” phenomenon. Well from distant childhood I have been an urban Saontal and loved the days I have spent in suri. I have fallen in love with Mayurakshi since my toddling times and still feel that now and then it attracts me like a seductive magnet. I have first learnt swimming with a “kolshi” in mayurakshi and the club s pool in durgapur is no match to it. I have sat cursing life,along it s bank when I have screwed up in life and felt as if the water was making a synonymous sound of grief. Suri has been my best friend whenever I have felt alone.

Anupama was a novel –philic ,impractical idiot. She imagined and created a lover of her own in Suresh never willing to ask what he felt about her. And Suresh was the REAL LIFE NERD , the B.A degree wallah Mazumdar who seemed to have a grudge on having his wife living in the next street.

( I have an inkling that even in those days educated indian youth had a weakness for GORAA CHAMRE WALI TOTAS, that’s why he wanted to cross KALAPANI so eagerly. :D )

And then came Lalit Mohan , the drunkard who had an eternal love for anupama. He was jailed ,he lost his self respect but was always in time when he had to save Anu from drowning. :D

Suresh fled on the day of his marriage , anu had to marry a 50 year old man who died after 3 years.

Anu was on verge of commiting her last suicide realising that Lalit was the only one who had ever loved her when Lalit made another miraculous life-saving act. The story ends with the most elegantly poised dialogue of the whole story.

Anu: ” why did you save my life ?“

Sarat chandra could have easily dethroned all the Chetan bhagats and the salman rushdie s had he been born in our era and written in english.

The best part of the story is the excerpts depicting the suicidal addiction of anu. She wanted to end her life innumerable times drowning in the pond but Alas ! what a pity that she knew swimming.

Enough of writing. I have brought my towel and its getting rainy. The clear water of Mayurakshi is waiting for me and so are my friends “LALU, NONTE , KEBOLRAM ,SADAI AND ATANU”.These scroundrels never seem to grow up!

Signing off.

Mayurakshi, here I come…..!

Love, Rain and Sunshine

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!

The world forgetting, by the world forgot.

ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND.
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd;


The stars shine a little more brightly,The moon is no longer a vestige of the night . The human instincts prevail over the logical half as the raindrops soak into your skin. The slight cough and cold are too insignificant an after-effect then ,as the umbrellas suddenly reduce in numbers and the mirror and the comb suddenly gains a lot of attention. Time transforms itself into an unpredictable constrain dragging itself to unfathomable length in times of solitude and ticking over in a fall of an eyelash in those special moments of life.You are supposed to be in utopia forever.
But honestly speaking, that does not happen.

At least not in this edition of Michel Gondry s surreal take on love. One may have a derisory as to why spent ink and attention on a film whose most of the dvds are off the shelf ( its been 5 years)! But believe me Eternal Sunshine… is such a motion picture which can be loved,critised but simply not ignored…
Well if you think that this scribbling is a mere criticism of a film then you can avoid the rest part as it will leave you dissappointed. And its best to watch the film first , cause only then the writing will fully fit in as a giant zigsaw puzzle.

Kate winslet doesn’t give her best performance ever in this one , Jim Carrey seems to be only the shadow of what he was in Mask or Liar Liar(the comical factor). But even an absolute perfectionist in UNDERACTING would admire their roles in this film. Joel and Clementine are not characters juxtaposed from a fictional novel , they are the ones we meet in real life in the streets of Durgapur ,kolkata, delhi and mumbai.
What happens when 2 persons ,their personal idealogies being poles apart find each other to be special and fall in love only to be driven to the extent of erasing their each other s identity from their memory by a fictious Lacuna inc.??
The answer is they meet again only to fall in love for the second time never knowing that their past were once entwined.(well, they do know at last)
The major portion of the film circles around the memories of Clementine being erased from Joels mind and as gradually as he realizes that Clementine is too special for him to forget and tries in vain to keep an outline of her in his other memories (childhood ones which didn’t revolve around her)
I personally found the following exchange of words to be the best one in the film.Its when Joel realizes that he cant be happy without Clementine but matters have gone too far.

Joel: It would be different if we could just give it another go-around.Clementine: Remember me. Try your best. Maybe we can.
And yes one can truly appreciate the film if it is watched more than once.

ERASING OF A MEMORY by mapping the brain and cutting out the portion of the memory involving the person !
What would be your first instinct if you had to erase one single human bieng from your life….
Someone you hate or someone you have loved and lost??
The world is a strange place. And human mind is stranger than it. For it always tends to prefer the latter choice,but ends up with the former …

A Silent Protest...

“ Maybe I know that the path im treading is wrong, maybe it leads to nowhere but at least I have got the courage to walk a long way along it…..”
That’s what animesh told madhabilata when she demanded him to move out of the naxalite movement in samaresh mazumdar’s “Kalbela”.
And that’s exactly what I thought when I opted for “THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY ,DURGAPUR” on my counseling day.
Today I know I was right then.
Im not animesh, was never as daring as him and to some extent idolize him .
And this piece of scribbling is not a ballad on my college.
One of my friends who s really thrilled me with some fascinating blog articles seems to have a sea of discontent flowing over our college , so does her beautiful piece of poetry suggest .I know the list of Placements and dreamjobs ist of Placementap wont interest her much . She s got some real doubt over the credentials of our students. Well I should let her know that ive found a few madhabilata s and animesh s in our college.
OKAY enough of shit lets get to the facts.
Lets listen to a story,or maybe a narration to be precise.

“There it is I thought amidst the waves, isn’t it?? The small paperboat fighting its way down the river?” A rough push broke my hallucination . “its getting late son ,we ll have to go back before sundown” father said. I stopped my ipod “behte saagar mein tanha kahin… geeton ko tumhare khojti..”.so that was the reason I was seeing the paperboat(filled with my dreams) I broke into a smile and suddenly that sunny afternoon filled my thoughts. “ Soham, have you seen The Bong Connection?”ayan smiled. There was no electricity and we as usual had bunked classes and were having the usual ”adda” on a rooftop.”its really a good movie ,you better watch it”. Had I not listened to Ayan that day maybe I would not have got the anjan dutta recipe which now plays one of the most important part of my life.
st important parrget those never ending discussion about satyajit ray ,rabindranath tagore about “OUR NATIONAL POET ‘SONNET’ ” and obviously about konkona0� and obvious Well to be true ,I have got a lot of friends studying in college s far better than mine in IIT s,ISM s and all the ones with IT ending its name but…..barring one
The only interesting topic that seems to come up when we meet is “ Kire kota girlfriend holo , koto jon ke potali and bla bla….”
The only place where we end up every alternate day is below the 89 cinemas .
Don’t know, unwillingly feel a part of lust-starving men who have been deprived of their testosterone in their collge. I wont leave them ,never do that ,for they have been with me through the rough, but I must admit I have found a few good men in my college who actually think exactly as I do . People who are not robots programmed to success .
People who have failed big time as I have. People who dare to sing “Dariye aacho tumi aamar.. “ at 2am the day before the semester exams ,and yes people who are unhesitant to help.

The poetess seems to have a lot of grudge over the fags and vodka.
But (though I haven’t had much) a nip or 2 has a comfortably numb effect on you I must say. Still remember the day I wasn’t “OUT” .
“Yesterday love was such an easy game to play…”
The beatles song multiplies its gripping effect when you are intoxicated. Obviously another one is” Somebody s me”.
I have found in rishi, ayan ,sumantra ,basu, sam, people who have lived life the way they wanted. We have been rebels against the wrong just like animesh and without deciding whether it was right or wrong walked along the path.i have seen my friends fantasizing someone and loving her even when she moved on with somebody.i have found my friend in the middle of a love story playing a character till the end , with the real world faded from his eyes.

WE ARE STILL “HUMAN S” IN OUR COLLEGE”.
“HAVENT BEEN GRINDED INTO A MACHINE”
Maybe the facts that she included were partly true.
But who cares.