ECHOES OF SILENCE, WITHIN THE WALLS OF SOLITUDE

2011-06-10T21:00:00.003+05:30

Is it possible to look into your eyes and feel the same again? I was told 'Everything changes'. That also includes the doors of your eyes that opened to the other world, isn't it? Everything changes, yes, to be sure, everything changes. The doors that were your eyes...

The thin air has thickened so much. The space is irreducible, though once I knew that thick walls could be reduced, and hearts could meet, and the doors could open to the other world. Is it possible that everything changes? Why does it?

When the ocean hits the stones with its waves, is it pleasure or pain? Do you feel again? Can you feel? Do you still see? Are you You?

"Trust me, you are safe." But nobody really means it. "Trust me..." But I don't trust you. "...you are safe."

I am safe, yes, in the labyrinth of my soul. The roads cross and recross in my dreams, in my nightmares. Do the doors open and see? Do the doors open to welcome me?

There was nobody who walked on the other side of you. No one gliding up the white road. You are alone, quite alone. You cannot give me what you never had.

And the doors now close, though I see them open. I cannot see anything inside. It's quite dark, miserably dark. Do I dare to lose my way in it? Should I suffer myself more?

Everything changes. But the suffering remains; it reiterates, it is situated in time, and transcends the timeless.

Now that I see it... Does it really matter if I look into your eyes? Does it matter if you can see? Because after all, you, with all the glories of your exceptional eyes, can only see through the looking-glass.

When It Rains Like This...

2011-05-19T16:22:00.000+05:30

...it evokes so many childhood memories! The destructive kalboishakhi that we used to experience at Nischintapur... I can still remember many occasions very vividly... And one of them, many years ago, when we were tiny things, running all around the village like crazy... I am transported back to that day... can see it in the present... can feel it... Why it doesn't seem like 'past' at all!

We, a bunch of children, are huddled together in a room on the first floor, and the storm is raging outside, with torrents of rain flooding the roof and going down the staircase to the rooms downstairs. Trees are being smashed, and the amazing sound of frogs who can be heard whenever the storm becomes a little docile.

We children are sitting in a large room half of which is already flooded with rainwater. And there is this one little lantern kept over a mid-case so that it doesn't get smashed by a drop of rainwater. The further corners of the room remain dark, as do some other places covered by the shadows of the bed and other furnitures. No one else is there on that floor with four gigantic rooms and huge verandah and a huger terrace, apart from us.

We are cold and yet wearing only our summer clothes. All tiny brats, having played notoriously all through the day, never felt like changing, and seeing the storm coming ran back home.

We are talking about ghosts, and aliens... The room perfectly compliments the discussion. The children are grave and serious, talking about things that really matter. The adults of the family are downstairs, talking very boring nonsense things as they always do.

My uncle has a friend called Raicharan, who used to be his classmate and died when he was only fourteen years old. The friendly ghost is the only 'real' ghost we know about since my uncle vouchsafes his existence. Raicharan even had painted a portrait of his on my copy that I kept for him one day. He has horns, and his face looks like a skull. But he has no legs, because ghosts never have legs. Its all smoky from waist downwards. Ghosts merely float on the ground, and they dangle from trees, and scare people away whom they don't like.

Raicharan is a nice ghost of course. We wonder if he is listening to us talking about him like that right now. What if he is just outside the window? He will certainly be really pleased to know that we think about him. But why then does he never show himself to us? We won't get scared. He can come (and this is deliberately said for Raicharan to hear in case he is listening just outside the window). But then Sanu says suddenly that he is scared. And besides, I think, Raicharan is very shy so probably he won't come anyway.

And then there is a huge lighting followed by an ear-splitting roar of the thunder. We all put our fingers in our ears. Someone is saying that a tree faraway must have caught it full. We timidly open the window a little to see. But all is dark.

Then there are footsteps on the staircase. And with another lantern our grandpa appears at the door. "Are you children alright?" he asks. Yes we are absolutely fine. "Not scared of the thunder? I thought you would be so I came to see." Oh no, no, we are not scared at all. We are all chatting about ...

"Grandpa," I say suddenly, "Have you ever seen ghosts?"

Gabriel Garcia Marquez : One Hundred Years Of Solitude

2011-05-10T02:00:00.003+05:30

My life changed after reading that novel. It is impossible for me not to pay respect to it. I owe so much to that single book! Just as Rushdie called it 'the greatest novel in any language of the last fifty years'.

Its a plethora of human emotions, a reality of the entire race of humanity, a history that is at once eternal and timeless, something that has always existed and is forever present.

Each and every page of the novel is an 'instant' of the 'present'. There is no past. Illusions melt into reality, reality fuses with magical elements. Who is to separate them! Reality and fantasy have finally become one, only to heighten reality all the more, to press the incomprehensibility of what we call 'real'.

'One Hundred Years Of Solitude' is also an amazing example of what can be achieved through simplicity of language alone. The trick lies in how one moulds the language to do his bidding. Of course, it is much greater than any other work I have read so far, including those of Kafka's. I really love Kafka, and yet with all respect I must acknowledge that Marquez is perhaps the person to whom I owe my new-founded vision.

I was foolishly attempting to write an answer on the novel for examination purpose. Nothing could be more futile. You cannot pen down the features of the novel in 1000 words. You cannot say anything at all.

I still remember the time when I read the novel. Before my part one exams I had a slight fever I think. I was recovering and reading this novel. It took me three or four days to read, and the next three or four days I was numb, speechless.

The novel attracted and repulsed (because of the incest). It was magical and fantastic, and yet it was more real than most 'realistic' novels. It bewildered, it bewitched, it amazed, it teased, it played with all the emotions imaginable including that of disgust.

If there is anything called 'the Bible' then here it is. If there is any Heaven, if there is any Hell then they are present here in this novel. Solitude is our Hell, and love our Heaven! And 'love' is what the Buendias lack, thus they are doomed with an unchosen solitude.

The family cannot differentiate between 'true love' and 'true lust', and in their confusion, just as with fantasy and reality, they blend these two is the same palette too, to create a feeling unique and of its own kind, a feeling that cannot be defined either as love or lust. Perhaps, if the word 'life' was indicative of any feeling at all then this is it.

2011-05-09T16:23:00.004+05:30

With a lot of excitement I started re-writing the story again. I admit I was rather satisfied at first. Deleted the poetic portion, included disjunctive prose in its place.

(Of course, I can't write poetry, because my feelings are too harsh, too sceptical... even in attempts they become prosaic. And yet, my prose remains poetic. That is perhaps what you might call going around in circles! Or the snake trying to follow its own tail! So, everything considered, no poetry for the moment.)

I am still satisfied with it, with the prose in bits and pieces, like old scraps of paper pasted together like memories out of the old shelf.

But again stuck in the middle.

The mirror is difficult to create, difficult to hold exactly parallel to the narration. Obviously, it is only in the end that you realize the existence of the mirror. But to create it is more sweat than I thought.

Till date I have attempted about four times to rewrite it, and failed always except during the fourth time, which is the last one, during which I finally rewrote half of it.

What troubles me now is the second half.

Rock You Like A Hurricane

2011-04-12T23:28:00.001+05:30

I cry. But no one can see my tears. I scream. But no one can hear my voice. I slowly perish. But still I have to smile and pretend to be ‘right there’.

But I’m not there. I’m sitting beside you but I’m not with you. I look into your eyes but I don’t see your trivial expressions. I hear your voice but I don’t listen to you. I am simply not present.

You are happy, you have things to do, you have your little goals and imprisoned dreams. You cannot possibly understand me. But I don’t have any grudge against you. No… You are simple. You are beautiful. You are challenging.

But it does take a lot of courage to live amidst these faces and pretend that I’m happy, that I’m fine, that I’m satisfied. Occasionally perhaps yes I am happy, just as occasionally I’m sad.

But no, the words are wrong. What I feel from time to time are not happiness and sadness; I feel a bubbling mirth and a thick, viscous gloom.

Hollowness is different though. It kills. But today’s gloom – it fills.

It is so dense, compact, compressed that my eyes fill up before I can control it. I don’t cry, but the sweet sorrow engulfs me, fills me up to the point of overflowing, and when it does look for a outlet either that is my eyes or my words.

Who has cared about what I have gone through? Who has understood my trauma? Who has tried to protect me from myself and the world? Who has tried to make me happy? Who has understood ME, my passions, my loneliness, my melancholy, my desire, my honesty?

None. And I no longer expect. People want me. They desire me. I would prefer the ‘honest’ desire than the ‘pretentious’ care.

Don’t need anybody’s concern or pity. Don’t need anybody’s pretension to understand me. For one thing, you don’t, and for another, I hate pretensions. You really don’t care about me. I wish I had known that from the beginning.

But now that things are slowly becoming clearer, I am going to be difficult. Now that the world slowly undresses itself, I will cover myself up. If you ever had the chance to know me now you have lost it. I’ll forever remain unknown. You cannot dig me up again.

Now I will be the one doing the pretension. You will look into my eyes and I’ll make sure that you cannot see me. Touch me, hold me, feel me, but I’ll make sure that you never penetrate my heart.

Ha ha! Funny, isn’t it? Funny to think how really stupid you all are? Funny that you don’t understand me a bit? And funny that I have lost the desire to know you. But there will be a hint… only for another soul like mine… a thread which only a very rare person will be able to pick up… the missing link.

I am game.

2011-03-29T20:21:00.001+05:30

"cold was the soul
   and untold was the pain
   i faced when you left me
   a rose in the rain"

2011-03-18T09:00:00.000+05:30

Either You have created one great writer... or You have destroyed her, completely...

Die not I

2011-03-17T20:18:00.005+05:30

You know dearies, today I realized something very important! Life is one damn struggle of simply not being dead. Did you know? It is a game of survival, really. God grins at your face and says, "How long can you survive, baby?" And you sweetly smile back at that bloody Creator and say, "I am playing the game honey, of surviving on my own terms as best possible under the circumstances, the game of not being dead. Allow me to play on!"

Why the hell is that God always pampering me? Why on earth does he always give me whatever I want? Even if it would cause injuries. He has spoilt me, really. But then I can't always scream at him; he loves me too. Or perhaps that's why I scream at him. I have even stopped asking him for things.

Had a slight headache last night, and it propelled me back into a dream I had a month back, of the huge disaster I was destroying with my tiny fingers. And I felt a drunken madness, a poison building up inside me, creating a childish glee. It was a fluid, enchanting mirth that was flowing through my veins.

I now continue to live in it. The poison does not kill me, it destroys others. I want to sting, destroy. Does anyone dare to drink it? Will someone take my poison and be one with me? Will You? Ha ha ha! I don't think so. You know so little, don't you, my dear little darlings? You wouldn't dare to know me. You couldn't possibly tolerate my madness, you wouldn't survive my poison.

Come now, you understand this, don't you? that you cannot answer my question?... because I am a question.

Best part is, even I am not looking for an answer... ;-)

The Street of Experience

2011-02-24T20:02:00.000+05:30

I was in no hurry that day (as you might expect of any other sane, normal, lazy person like me). Out there on the street people kept flowing as usual. And I was pushed along the flow, during which I had no idea where I was going. I stumbled back to the university gate after some disillusioned moments and whatever I had happened to think of during that time evaporated from my mind completely.

I stopped at the tea-stall just outside the main gate of the university. People usually don't have tea at noon... and since I was not People I just had to have tea at that time. It was just a way of showing that .... umm.... that I liked tea.

But that day something was different with me. I was conscious of my consciousness, of two eyes that could see and a brain that could think. No other part of my body existed. I felt like a flame, burning and illuminating, and could feel the other flames around that burnt like mine.

But were they conscious? These walking legs, and moving hands, and open eyes, and thinking brains... were they conscious that they were not individual parts?

It takes time to get used to the melodrama of College Street. The cacophony is like music; it sings to you a song of life, celebrating its chaos.

All these people, who are in so much hurry, have so many different reasons to come to college street. Many of them are perhaps coming here for the first time, some bewildered, some in search for the right shop, some amazed by the sheer amount of books scattered all around.

Someone has perhaps come to buy books for his little child, someone to buy notes and suggestions for his son or daughter appearing for board exams, someone in search of books by his loved authors, some teachers, some examinees, and most and most of all young students from various parts of the city and at times even from outside it, pursuing degrees of various degrees.

Tired and sweating, some take breaks at tea-stalls (where I am to be found also at times). The fast-food stalls at the street-side are nearly always busy catering to various visitors. In fact many times, relatives of patients admitted at Medical College also drop in to have some quick snacks.

That's another place : the Medical College of Kolkata. Patients all around, dirt accumulating and degenerating, all kinds of people everywhere, some worried for their loved ones, some going home, some resting, some getting harassed, some wounded, some suffering, some living, many dying : as far as your eyes go and your heart feels and your brain thinks, you are reminded everywhere of one thing : mortality : the uselessness of our physicality.

Strange place this. Here, around Calcutta University, you are reminded of life all around, and just beside it, death. Being in a place like this can have many effects on someone. Wouldn't a young fella feel anything weird if he were to pass by a morgue everyday? It's good to be reminded of mortality, good to feel that death is not really as far away as we imagine it to be. To the contrary it is, in fact, right here, all around us, everywhere, watching us, thinking, waiting. It takes away one's fear of death.

As far as I am concerned, I now continue to feel like the flame every single day that I pass; I continue to feel without the body; I be and I become.

Kichu gan, Kichu anubhuti

2010-11-14T00:23:00.001+05:30

"amake amar moto thakte dao,
ami nijeke nijer moto guchhiye niyechi,
ja kichu chilona chilona
ta na pawai thak -
shob pele noshto jibon..."

How easily can you accept failure? And from then onwards strive towards a happiness that can be reached? People philosophize, people calculate, people weigh their bank balances... but happiness? contentment?

I like all the little goods and bads, all the little happinesses and sorrows, all yous and mes. I like to have phuchkas from the streets, I like to bargain my kurtis, I sigh at bad results, cry at a sudden misfortune, be happy for others, laugh with my friends, and just live, live, live every moment of my life!

And since my life is strange,,, it's something more than just that,,, I experience all these at some other place with some other people under some other circumstances at some other time... It's like living my life twice over!

And Love... yes Love... 'Love' itself fills my heart with peace and contentment. Such is life dearies! And Love...

"kokhono akash beye chup kore,
jodi neme ashe bhalobasha khub bhore,
chokh bhanga ghume tumi khujona amay,
ashe pashe ami r nei...
amar jonyo alo jelona keu,
ami manusher somudre gunechi dheu,
ei station er chottore hariye gechi,
sesh train e ghore firbo na na na"

Sei sesh train amio dhorte chaina; chai hariye jete, ei prithibi te. Ektu to pran khule nishwas niye niy, tarpor ekdin thik ghore firbo. Tokhon hoyto keu amar jonyo opekkha korbena, keu dorja khule bolbena 'bhetore ay', keu hoyto chinteo parbena...

Kintu, tai ki? Naki keu thakbe?

Atodiner ato bondhu, sobai na thakuk kichu jon to thakbei, taina? Ami atodine bujhechi j amar bohudiner obhijog ekdom britha, bhittiheen. Bhalobasha ami jotheshto peyechi sobar theke... atotai peyechi j sei jinistar obhab konodin bujhtei parini... Bhalobasha na pawa je ki jontrona ta akhon kichuta holeo bujhte pari...

"kokhono somoy pele ektu bhebo, anguler phake ami koi" ... anguler phak gulo jeno khali na thake, kokhonoi...

Bhalo theko shokole...

R 'Autograph' er gan gulo k dhonyobad janai, onekdin por kichu meaningful gan lekhar jonyo ebong segulo k mon chhuye jawar moto kore compose korar jonyo... jodio aro bhalo hote parto...

Raking my brains over....

2010-11-11T01:33:00.000+05:30

The fire and the fury - are all seeping out of my head right now. What has happened? I seriously don't know. The creator suffers with the created sometimes, don't you think? And more often while creating! As in my case....

I'm feeling like the protagonist himself,,, suffering for him, screaming for him, dying for him. And add to that his profound inability to express himself. Am I becoming like him? Can't express myself? How do you express what one cannot express? How do you express the inexpressibility of a certain world? I can tear all my hair apart but still not get an answer.

At the end of the day art is always a failure, because art is only people's heartfelt endeavour to express himself, his emotions, which he otherwise can't express through simple language or gesture. But then this has to be so - a failure. Nothing can take the place of emotion so perfectly so as to replace the emotion itself. That is impossible. One cannot recreate the abstract that takes place at a particular moment; one can at the most touch it from the periphery.

While creating I feel an ocean of emotions that hits me wave after wave. I live, I die, I laugh, I cry, I rise, I fall... and at one time I become numb. Pain and contentment both fill me at the same time, to the extent that I become numb.

Mad, eh? Well yeah... And I am grateful for being what I am. Who else can create sorrow and happiness? I can manufacture happiness in my brain; it affects me like drug. I create it; I nurture it; I let it grow... and then it engulfs me when I need it, at very delicate junctures of fantastical waves.

Precious... My Precious! Yes.. like Gollum... (Imagine that Smeagol replacing my throbbing heart with the bloody Ring!)

Maybe I have to try it out, or else it will never be completed. I have to sketch his life, his hands, his goal, and his failure. Maybe in this journey he will lose it all, but that will help him in his life that never exists, that never can exist.

2010-03-03T19:24:00.004+05:30

Strange world this. It does not take much time for a belief to dissolve into thin air. I was just there, sitting amidst the cacophony, hearing the uttered words (and breaking them into meaningless syllables), and yet I was not there. How a little time can show strange things!

They are students of literature. And they lie, they insult their teachers, they back-stab, break their promises, go to the length of incredulity in order to perform their usual task of mudslinging...

I was there by an accident, you see. I am accused of being 'detached', quiet and unable-to-be-a-friend-in-spite-of-being-friendly type. Though all these about me are true, one can't really go to the length of advertising these in public, and so I suffer these accidents sometimes.

And these leave me drained, completely. I can't help but wonder, when a person is incapable of love, of emotions, of feelings, how can he/she understand the profundity of creation? The created ones also create, and they form a world of their own - another creation. In order to be a part of that world you must melt in it.

Forget about all these 'feelings' and stuffs; they don't even read a line more than what is written. But they must criticize what they do not understand. If a person of a mindset such as mine comes across these surgeons of art, what does one do?

Nothing, really. And so I was alone. Not physically, but somehow my mind was secluded. Such gatherings prove a bit too much for me to bear. There no one talked about beauty. No one was bothered. No one understood. The so-called beauty they talked about was in itself a captivated damsel, and people cherished her confinement with quoted lines and references. It is like holding a testube and saying, “Look! I have a part of this world in here! And so I understand the world!”

If you ever understand beauty (beauty not in the Romantic sense but rather as the profundity of this existence, the 'I' in your mind), even for once if you can just ‘feel’ it, you would go speechless. Then your heart would speak in a strange language and pass its waves of feelings to the waves of the world, and there you become one with the ‘one life’, the creation, where all the waves meet, converge at one point and again spread out. And what do you speak about, what do you say at that time?

Silence speaks. You come and sit silently beside me, melt in the beauty around us and then, look into my eyes once. If you feel what I feel, we shall undergo the ‘sameness’ and then we shall no longer require words to describe what we feel and yet we will communicate... through silence. Come, let us cherish!

Sting

2010-03-03T18:33:00.003+05:30

And the blood was red and death was black the eyes that cried were bleeding red and the mouth that smiled was greedy black the racket zoomed and smack smack smack! the blood was red the flies were black his eyes were red and tears ran black she spoke red words and her tongue was black as black as death and to hell and back and hell itself was slimy red with puffs of pain that echoed black the words all drowned in a sea of blood but the blood remained as red as black

And the man ran after the black black speech but the pull pulled him and he could not be back the tears were red and the eyes were black that bled to death in a cry that racked and the monster laughed in a hissing sound and the hiss was red but the sound was black his teeth were broken and red flesh would bleed but he felt no pain and he thundered loud for he was numb as numb as black

There was a flower the one white flower that had a spot of red on it and now a subtle pinch of black

The king made a vow for lust of black and for that he bled a sea of red and he thought it was the end of things but he did not know his blood was red that disintegrated in the hole of black

And then he conquered what he thought was heaven and saw that it smelled of black and then he could no longer find a place that did not smell of red or black

The touch was slimy red of old and the food that tasted grimly black the priest was red his words were black and the so called gods were red and black

The one white flower was blowing in the breeze the smell was red and the breeze was black the drop of red trickled down by the side of a petal and the pinch of black was poisonous and strong it made a mark and weighed it down

But the one white flower alone and weak was neither red nor deep deep black

Written On 24th May 2004

2010-02-21T21:58:00.003+05:30

I found the following article by me in a diary that marks the date as 24.5.2004. I always consider myself an immensely bad writer (and I feel too embarrassed to speak about it with people in general). Now, having suddenly discovered this, it pleases me to see that I could construct sentences that long back! My teacher will thank his stars, because he will now be able to say, "See her? This is a student of mine... and, if you will believe, she can write sentences!" ;) Hehe! Only joking of course.

I remember clearly the events of the day. Every single word written here is true, and I wrote this entire thing throughout the day, one line now, next line after an hour... and so on. However, this piece of writing sums up to nothing important really. It is neither entertaining nor artistic. To tell you the truth I even hate it, because it is overly Romantic (and childish) in nature, full of a 15yr old girl's melodramatic and exaggerated idiocy. At present, thankfully, I do not have that element in myself, neither do I want it to return and haunt me. I am copying the article here, word by word, just to keep a record:

"It is a very beautiful day. My grandmother gave me one hundred rupees for visiting the fare. But I don’t want to go there. Somehow I don’t belong there. Only one more day left before I go back to the safety of my room.

The day is really beautiful and now I am here all alone on the roof, watching the beauty of the deep blue sky and scattered golden clouds. Wish I could describe this beauty! The sky – it is a wonder of divinity! And the clouds seem to be safeguarding this divine creation by spreading their golden wings. But their golden wings are getting covered up by patches of gray clouds, as though they are playing hide and seek.

The clouds are hovering over the sky to show me their beauty; the sky is peeping its head to show me its royalty; the nature is trying to maintain its silence to let me hear it breathe; the world is showing me its grandeur; and some occasional human voices show me their unmistakable fragility.

How beautiful is solitude! It speaks to me silently to demonstrate Nature’s beauty. It feels that the birds are singing only for me, because no one else is hearing them. I’m here all alone listening to their songs. It feels that Nature is trying to speak to me, because no one else is there to listen to her words. Nature is beckoning me to observe her beauty, because no one else is looking.

How can anyone else see it? Does anyone have God’s vision? Does anyone have God’s blessings? Does anyone have my eyes?

Smoke is coming out from a chimney of a factory. It seems as if black horses are galloping across the sky in a straight line. The horses are in a war. Dark clouds from all directions are covering the sky. They are all headed towards the center.

The world is silent, to welcome a hero, a brave fighter, great warrior. The wind has always been quiet, preparing for its enemies to come. The sky is dark, the war may start at any moment. But no, the wind is still not blowing the horn to signal the beginning of the war.

Shall I be a part of this war? No… who am I to be a part of Nature’s war? But I’m a part of Nature.

The sky is so black now that it seems a dark fate is hovering over the earth. The clouds do not really feel like clouds, but something more. A faint path of light separates the two halves of the sky, as if it has cracked from the middle, as if something has moved through, cutting a way for itself.

What splendid beauty! And everything is happening right in front of my eyes! And the wind, oh, I can’t bear the enormous sound! The bell has been rung; it is still ringing. The dreadful music is buzzing my ears. Something revengeful is happening, and something even more dangerous is about to happen. A large ship of huge black clouds has stopped right over our house, the trees are turning wild, the wind is going mad!

Let me, sweet Lord, let me be a part of this wildness! Let me get absorbed in it and be one."

Lost In An Unreal World

2010-01-29T21:21:00.003+05:30

The real world seems the most unreal of all. What is reality? It is no more distinguishable than an illusion. We are all stuck in an unreal world, like the one in matrix. There is no logic in this world, and even if there is, it is hardly ever followed.

There is no logic behind man’s compulsion to obey rules. There is no reason for political boundaries. There is no reason for my frustration. What am I doing here? This is not my world. This does not belong to me. Even this life is not what I want it to be. What logical world is this, where one is always restricted?

I am restricted, in whatever I do, whatever I set out to accomplish, whatever dreams I want to realize. Whose life am I living? Whose smile am I smiling? Whose sleep am I sleeping?

That word called ‘peace’. I’ve forgotten how the dictionary explains it. To me peace is numbness. When I’m comfortably numb, devoid of feelings, thoughts or emotions. It’s just when I sit blank, see blank, think blank, feel blank and taste blank. My eyes forget to blink (thanks God I don’t forget to breathe!) and I completely forget my existence.

Never was there an experience of happiness in my life which was not immediately followed by depression. Am I ill? But without this sorrow I cannot live, because then I won’t be able to create. Maybe I become sad because of this. When I’m happy I forget to create, and that depresses me when I realize it… and that in its turn makes me create!

Now what do I create? You see, I live in a world of my own… my ‘Neverland’, that world which Peter Pan set out to discover. I want to go to my ‘Neverland’; I feel safe there, invulnerable, secured, indestructible. I already feel that I cannot die. I can just flow like a crystal clear river, gushing out from the mountains and making my own way through the mazes of nature, tasting the raw beauty of this world, a beauty devoid of man.

What is the meaning of this particular existence? We all die one day. So does in matter if I live in this world or in ‘Neverland’? What matters is whether I’m doing what satisfies me, whether I feel like a spring or a dark forest or a bird or a jackal. What matters is whether I feel immortal within myself. Can I ever die?

It’s true that I’ll leave my body behind me one day. But that won’t kill me. To the contrary that will be the moment of my freedom, because even one’s physical form is a restriction. Death does not kill; it sets you free. And after I’m free I’ll fly like the skylark, that ethereal bird of immortality.

Why didn’t that stupid old man upstairs make me a bird I wonder! Even in my dreams I fly… far, far away! I remember one particular dream I had once. I saw that I was drowning and then died. After I was dead I just flew off, leaving my body behind. I became a source of light, and I was flying trough the universe, almost as if I were a part of its making, like the blood that runs through one’s veins. When I reached the end of this universe I just jumped into another universe and I was flying again! Weird, eh?

The dream was lovely. I could see the stars and the galaxies and so many things! I wish I could fly.

'Ami Shunechi Sedin Tumi'

2010-01-05T21:43:00.004+05:30

Ei gan ta geyechilen Moushumi Bhoumik. Kothao jeno gan ta amar mon ke khub nara diye jay. Koshto jeno katha bole othe. Othocho kanna niye na, kemon jeno sahosher sathe nijer dukkho hasi mukhe shikar korche keu. Gaye kata day; nijer dukkher katha, na bola katha, chhotobelar shopner katha chokher samne chhobir moto fute othe. Gan tar modhye diye keu bachte chaiche, shopno dekhte chaiche, bhalobaste chaiche... Manush ar ki chaite pare? Oneke onek kichu kore jibone. Onek rojgar kore, onek opore othe, onek porasona kore, gyaan orjon kore... Kintu eshober majhe bohu manush bhule jay tar jiboner ek khub sadharon jinis: se bachte bhule jay - shopno dekhte bhule jay, onyer jonyo se ar chokher jol fele na, onyo ke bhalobashena.

Kintu keno? Ei poriborton diye ki hoy? Amra ki shukh shanti pai? Naki joto din jay toto besi kore sei purono diner kathai mone pore? Sei na bola katha, sei shopnobhora chokh, chokher kone jol, mukhe hasi, golay gan ar 'prithibi ta paltabo' bhebe egiye chola, er kon kon gulo amra pechone fele ashi? Jiboner proti prem, kobita lekhar jhok, manush ke bhalobasha, onyer koshte koshto pawa, onyer sukhe sukhi howa, er onekguloi amra bohu dur, bohu dur kothao fele rekhe chole jai. Kintu manush to sesh obdi manush i hote chay. Se jiboner sesh muhurto obdi chay khola akash, khola batash ar tantan kore mela dana, jate mon chailei se ure jete pare. Ar tai jibone kokhonoi sei purono fele asha din se bhulte parena. Onek egiye geleo ghar ghuriye pechhone se thik chaibei. Sagorer dheu o to pichhiye jay, kintu seo sesh obdi fire ashe, achhre pore samudra-soikate. Take ke tane? Ke bole fire aste? Pakhi jotoi ure berak, diner seshe seo bashay fere.

Kintu amra ki pari fire aste? Amra ki sei harano sukh abar upobhog korte pari? Pari ki abar gan gaite? Pari abar shopno dekhte? Pari abar notun kore bachte?

Amake je bachtei hobe. Ami boro hote bhoy pai. Boro hoye gele jodi bhule jai nijeke? Ami takar jonyo bachte chaina, khyatir jonyou na. Ami bachte chai nijer jonyo, bhalobashar jonyo, tomar jonyo. Jekhanei jaina keno amake je tomar kachei abar fire aste hobe. Amake apon korbe to? Kal jodi ami gan gaite bhule jai abar amar sathe gan gaibe to? Amake bolbe to je ami ek kale gan gaitam? Abar amake bachte sekhabe? Kobita bolbe? Amra sei rastay hete berabo, akash ar batashe milemishe ekakar hoye jabo.

Amra abar bachbo, abar hashbo, abar kadbo, ar abar notun kore bhalobashbo.

Beautiful Object

2010-01-05T00:26:00.002+05:30

Now suddenly I have this vision, a strange story:

Once I saw the Moon. I thought it was lovely. I told God so, that it was lovely. God smiled and said, yes lovely, but not as powerful as the Sun. So I looked at the Sun and felt its power. I told God so, that it was powerful. God said, the stars far away are more powerful than the Sun. I looked at the sky again - there were many stars. Suddenly it felt odd. The stars were so far away that I could not understand their power although I knew some of them were more powerful than the sun, and some were less powerful. And yet all of them were twinkling brightly, as sober and lovely as the Moon. I told God so, that they were both lovely and powerful, but I wanted to see them up close, so as to feel their power, or in some cases their lack of it. God said, no, you should not; the more you go close the lesser will they appeal to you, the mightier will they seem and the more will you see their flaws; let them twinkle from far away, and then they will look beautiful.

Yes. Beautiful! That was the word I was looking for. Beautiful! And they were indeed beautiful. Then I learnt something important. When something looks both powerful and lovely, don't go up close to inspect the object. Keep looking from far away, and they will always be 'beautiful'.

Appreciate anything that is beautiful. But don't go too close, lest you see the flaws that might change your opinion forever!

Decoded

2010-01-04T23:18:00.003+05:30

Decoded: Not today but a long time back. Result, zero. There was no mystery ever attached. It was all an illusion, which has broken now. Thankfully.

I'm now free again. But worried about other things. I have to change fast, lest beauty vanishes from sight. I have to catch her and absorb her deep within me so that she can flow through my works, my veins, my mind and my heart.

Illusion vanishes. But should we let this illusion vanish? Aren't we often inspired by sources that are nothing more than illusions? The beauty of it will encourage you. Ah, I could not trap it this time!

But I have a vision:

Rest Of The Trip

2009-10-08T16:05:00.008+05:30

Since I don't have much time, and also since the excitement of the trip has mostly died down by now, I'll just write in short about the places I've seen.

Next morning we first went to the Rushikonda beach. The Sun had unfortunately not risen. But we walked on the water for sometime. The beach is terribly dirty. So it looks much better off from a distance.

Our car came in time and we started the city tour at 10 in the morning. We first went to Simhachalam Temple, a worthless place. If you are planning to go there you can cut that part. From there we went to Kailasagiri. Its a nice place. There are too many people and the top doesn't really look like a hilltop but the view of the city is very good. One can take a ride on the toy train or walk on the soft grass.

After that we had an ordinary lunch, followed by a trip to Vishakha Museum. Then we went to see the submarine museum. It was a good experience seeing the insides of a submarine up close. Next it was Ramakrishna Beach with all the naked kids dancing on the waves. This beach is also not clean but you can swim there if you find a good enough place (usually the waves are all full).

We went to the old harbour next in a bus, took a ride on a launch and went some distance off shore. It was enjoyable but short. After coming back from there we went to the aquarium museum, or whatever it is called. I saw this one with great interest as I myself possess an aquarium with many dear little creatures. Finally we went back to our hotel.

Next two days were spent in the beautiful Araku valley. The small hills looked wonderful! Most of the times I felt like leaving the car and walking barefoot on the grass and with sneakers on the hills! The sight was a treat for the eyes. Of course, one can't 'explain' all of it. You can say what places you saw in Vizag but you can't say what places you saw in Araku, because the place is ALL that you can see. And there is just peace, peace and peace. The nature is very inviting. I was rather disappointed with my parents because all they wanted to do was sit in the car and watch the nature speed away through the window. This isn't my cup of tea. And I've already decided to go there again, to walk through the hills and smell the green.

The last day in Vizag was a good one, only because of one place where we went that morning. Kambalakonda Sanctuary. No matter what happens I'll go there one day, that's a promise to myself. It's a beautiful sanctuary full of hills and trees as far as your eyes would go! And numerous birds and animals are supposed to stay there. So it will make a good experience. You can trek there if you have a group of 10 which is rather a shame. I do not know from where I can collect 9 more people. But anyway I'll still do it. In fact I was wondering, why not spend a night there? Though it is surely not allowed.

The day we went there it was raining. And so through out that vast area of sanctuary there was hardly a soul who went to visit the place! And I really mean it. There was practically no tourist. It was very very quiet. Some birds chirped and it rained from time to time. There were some huge millipedes to my disliking. Me and my brother went up many stony staircases to experience complete solitude. It's that kind of solitude which you can never ever find in the city. It feels right like heaven! I'll go there only for Kambalakonda if I have to. Who knows when that day will come! But I'm ready to wait for it, even if to spend only a day there.

On this last day we saw many things worth seeing. Three other places apart from Kambalakonda are Thotlakonda, Red Sand Hills and Dutch Cemetery. All three of these places have immense peace and solitude. We saw Ramanaidu Film Studio as well. It has an excellent location on a hill top. Thotlakonda is a place of Buddhist ruins, again on top of a hill. Bricks there are more than 2000 yrs old! And the red sand hills are special only because of the sound of wind which almost sounds like a running river, and of course, peace.

The cemetery is very old with some graves dating as back as the 18th century! And there was no one to ruin the peace of the place, only one attendant who told us a few things about the cemetery but in a mixture of South Indian language and English. It was difficult to catch but still understandable.

The trip was a great experience! And I thoroughly enjoyed it :)

Next year if I'm here during the puja, I'll definitely do a small documentary. But as far as this year is concerned, I do not regret having missed the puja at all!

Raging Storm!

2009-09-23T18:45:00.002+05:30

WOW! How exciting and how boring! Telling a tale needs to be started at the initial moment. So it's best to start from where I had stopped last night.

Unfortunately I couldn't sleep all night. At the break of dawn I decided to stop trying and sat upright in my place. We had just reached Cuttack then. The station was almost deserted. But some people hurriedly ran towards the train. When the train started again I was pretty enthusiastic. The room was fantastic and very cold. So I tightened the blanket all around with only the eager eyes poking out from a peeping gap.

Then slowly everyone woke up. We had warm coffee and later bread and omelet. All that remaining morning I was walking throughout the corridor, dangling between two rooms every now and then. I finally sat near a clear window enjoying the view outside.

Time slowly dragged away. I was getting very restless by 12.30 pm. But what can someone do? We got down at 1.45 pm and took an auto to our hotel, Rushikonda Beach Resort which is about 30 kms away from the station. It took us half an hour to reach there. But on the way we just went Wow! Wow! Wow!

Once we left the city and took the butter smooth road by the side of the ocean it was no longer anticipation but a bubbling joy of seeing the spectacular blue ocean mingling with the clear blue sky on one side and green, rocky hills on the other. The road cut them into two halves and I felt torn with one handycam, spoilt for choices.

But the roadside view was not all. The AP tourism Rushikonda Beach Resort is amazing! With a wonderful location to boast of and very neat, clear and eye-catching rooms facing the Rushikonda Beach had our appreciation at once! We have two rooms, not adjacent but not very far away either. The one in which I am staying proudly shows the lovely blue water and sandy beach with numerous trees and huts through one side of the room made of glass. The door is right beside it and if you go out you will be welcomed by a sweet little balcony with chairs. The balcony is always windy and full of the sound of the breaking waves falling mercilessly on the scattered stones and the beach.

After a quick shower and lunch, we leisurely sat on the soft bed with the cozy pillows on our laps. Time passed by. I later went to the other room because we all had to take a little rest since our plan was to roam around the beaches in the evening.

But alas! that was not to be. However, the reason for that was so unexpected and welcome that we became rather glad about what followed next.

Just when my brother and I stepped out of the other room to get back in this one we couldn't miss the thick black clouds rising from one corner of the sky, provoking the sea to assume a mysterious blue-grey colour. We could not fathom how big or how small an affair that was. We only stood mesmerized watching the changing mood of the sensuous sky.

Before long we had an answer to our bewilderment. The clouds were not passing away, they were just rising! Slowly a swarming army of black clouds charged from one end of the sky rapidly gaining on the other parts. The thunders blew their horns, announcing an imminent danger. Ah! I wish that would go on! The wind went wild, my hair flying wilder, yet I managed to keep recording the videos and take some still pics.

But I must say that I'm rather disappointed because it is not possible to show the real beauty that we were lucky enough to see with our real eyes, through DVD. Still, the recordings will remain as reminders of our experience forever!

Now when I look out and I can still see the thick velvety blackness outside. The thunder is still roaring from time to time. And in this romantic weather we are about to go for dinner in a lovely restaurant just at a stone's throw away from our room.

Loads of plans are awaiting us tomorrow! Visiting the beaches didn't work out today but hopefully we will be able to do that tomorrow. I'll write soon again. Till then, sayo nara!

Aboard the Chennai Mail!

2009-09-23T00:43:00.002+05:30

On very rare occasions do we get to go out on travel somewhere. This time we are lucky enough to get a much desired opportunity to escape the doldrums of the city and go far far away! Today is Chaturthi of Durga Puja. It's of course slightly disheartening to miss our fascinating festival. But frankly speaking, I'm quite glad to be able to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Right now I'm sitting on my bed in a coup aboard the Chennai Mail! And I'm feeling so excited! It's impossible to describe in words what I'm feeling right now. We booked tickets for first class AC in Chennai Mail. That meant booking a coup for four people. But unfortunately we found that we have been separated. Two seats are booked in one room, two in another.

I was upset at first but after taking an inside view of the train I was thoroughly glad. Two of us had to compromise on the privacy bit because two seats out of four are booked in a room of four. But the remaining two seats are separate and together form just one room. It is in the later one that I've dumped my bags and taken a seat on the lower berth.

The room is very sweet! There is a washbasin in one corner and over it there is a clear mirror. We also have a wall cabinet for keeping clothes. There are two mid-cases and a dustbin. So all in all it's a nice arrangement. There are two main lights. But apart from these we have separate lights near bed (two small bulbs near each bed), one bright lamp near the mirror and even a night light. Our bags are scattered on the ground and some food is kept neatly on the mid-case.

My brother is on the upper berth, possibly writing. It feels so nice just to be here! Now I wish I could travel like this a little longer than just 12 hrs! I suppose one and a half days like this would be all right. Tomorrow we will reach Vizag possibly after noon. And it's also going to be a wonderful day!

We have plans to visit a lot of places but I won't talk about those just now. It's time to go to sleep! Tomorrow I hope to write again. Till then, good night!

Calcutta University Freshers 2009!

2009-09-16T23:12:00.003+05:30

What a marvellous day we had today! We all danced and sang and laughed and made so much merry! Not to mention the food we had outside (at our own expense). The time was worth it. The Calcutta University Freshers was quite good. I started from home at 12.30 pm, reached by 1.30 pm. Luckily it was just starting then. We had many performances. But the best part was our own dance! We were dancing wildly, especially Chandrani and Adrita. The aisle was full and seats empty!

And a certain violin player deserves special mention. I can't be sure of his name. He is a first year MA student of Sanskrit. The guy played some marvellous tunes! He is this little Frodo Baggins type of creature - tiny with curly black hair. It would have been a great experience to be able to interact with him. Intellect is something I highly respect, as well as talent. He had talent, yes, and I wanted to see his intellectual level. But I never had the chance. It's not easy here in Kolkata to talk to your opposite sex without arousing suspicion in others. Never mind though!

Some singers were wonderful, and some horrible. But they were all worth our time either in smiles or laughters. The band was sort of ok. They played some melodious songs but those are not the ideal type for a fresher. People wanted dance numbers but they continued with the slow tunes, except a few times when they did divert, for example with a couple of songs from Rock On!! and one Bryan Adams (Summer Of 69) and Pink Floyd and one last Fossils (Chorabali, Hasnuhana) etc.

The gang of girls rocked the most. They looked beautiful in their lovely dresses. We danced a good deal and got tired as well. But unfortunately for us, there is a serious dearth of attractive guys in CU! And my choice is the most difficult to find, not only here but through out India and the rest of the world. Luckily by now I've learnt not to expect :)

After these fascinating experiences I set off with Taniya to come back home. The new metro helped me get back quickly, and I reached my place at 9 pm. Not bad for what seems to be the first and last fresher of my life!

A Whole New World!

2009-09-15T21:59:00.002+05:30

Doing MA in English Literature is not easy. Of course, there will always be the 'commons', never able to reap anything substantial from the teeming tree of fascinating knowledge propelled towards us, readily at our service. Such a weird thing is knowledge! Often educated people don't have it, and most people don't bother to take the plunge and pluck one apple. Worthy of mention is that I've seen some rare men without degrees who possess admirable knowledge. It is at times the same as with those numerous educated people who lack conscience.

I found in the preliminary classes at the university that there are two ways of doing MA. One is the commons' way: study only what is mentioned in the syllabus, memorise the probable answers, pour your swift Thames of memorized storage of temporary knowledge on the sea of your answer sheet, and await the inevitable: results. They want to be able to say to the world (and write in their resumes) that they have passed MA. Nothing else matters. You may trace a hint of scepticism in my words here, but honestly speaking I'm not sceptical at all. These people are 'common', in other words, simple, with a very ordinary view of life and similar expectations from it. You cannot, and should not, expect everyone to be a connoisseur in his/her chosen field.

The second way is to garner as much of the precious knowledge as possible for a lifelong period, and to make the fruit of knowledge one's priority, not the price one can gather in exchange. That is to say, the student should place his love on the subject itself, and not the amount of money he earns from it. The field of crops is always in an appropriate state for harvest, awaiting our arrival, only we do no realise. We tend to pass by it and not through it, distracted as we are by other attractions. The path we choose must not be harboured as a mere means of possessing riches, but we should consider the path itself to be our ardour, our passion, our goal.

But that is not going to make anyone's work easier. Quite to the contrary, it will increase the burden. We have a bewildering range of materials to choose from. And the range is often claustrophobic to say the least. At this very moment I posses a list of about 250 MUST READ BOOKS, most of which I've naturally not read. But I will. Being slow and steady is the key. I cannot afford to invite an ever-smiling disaster in my results. And since I'm not taking any tuition the effort becomes all the more difficult and time consuming.

Desperate? Well, no. Anxious? Nope. Bored? No. Tired? I've not even started. Sad? Um, well, partly yes. Why? That's because I was a thoroughly lazy student, a pupil with atrocious lethargy or should we say, numerous diversions? Both are applicable. I will not divulge into my older 'easily diverted' state of matters, but the fact remains, I did not pursue knowledge with as much a vigour as with the one I possess now.

And believe me, if you are a student of English Literature, taking tuitions is the worst thing you can do to yourself. It makes you thoroughly dependable, unless you are someone who can utilize it well. But as most people don't know how to utilize it I would rather suggest anyone to avoid taking tuitions at all costs. I took one, and I never memorized a single answer except a few for the first paper out of a total eight. So all the money was a complete waste, not to mention the wastage of my precious time.

Now, it seems I've stepped into a whole new world! There are so many things to know, so much to learn, and my young heart always flutters and waves merrily at the approach of something new, something exciting. '18 till I die' is not only from the perspective of physical fitness and capabilities, but also one's mental stamina and fervour - the zeal to learn, love and appreciate.

The world is beckoning warmly, provoking me to flap my wings of imagination and soar up in the sky! But before you infer me as a great student of literature let me assure you, I am not anyone special. What is special about me is my interest only. Life becomes irksomely dry and somewhat impeccable in its own wry manner if there is no outlet for emotions, enthusiasm and exhilarating interests. Impeccability from a general point of view is itself an error of a tedious sort, which never arouses the mind to try something outside the boundaryline. This is what keeps us - we, humans - apart from other species - our curiosity.

It is obvious that most of us don't hear the call. But some of us do, just like I have. Life is calling, and we have to jump headlong into the swelling, tumultuous tide with an unflinching heart and dauntless courage. Without fear or doubt! And from there, no looking back.

Missing Marksheets!

2009-08-16T21:26:00.003+05:30

Some incidents are such that no matter how much you try you can never forget them. Not necessarily all of them are worth cherishing. On 12th of August 2009 I had one such massive incident in my life, which was regrettable, unbelievable and quite harmful had it been slightly otherwise.

On the fine morning of the mentioned day I was getting ready to go to Calcutta University for taking admission to the MA course in English Literature. While collecting my things I could not find the marksheets of Part I, Part II and Part III.

I kept looking all by myself for 15mins. When I failed I had to call my mom and report the incident to her. Now she also started searching. One hour passed like that. We were going crazy by then looking at every nook and corner of my room, even in unlikely places like the dustbin, a red bucket that contains old clothes and even shoe-boxes! I was forced to stop my mom when she was trying to open a cutlery set.

Disheartened, and by then starting to realise the seriousness of the matter, my father was called, who after some scoldings asked me to go to Calcutta University and report the incident to the authorities.

I was thoroughly depressed. The world was a downright ugly place then, and I was feeling disgusted to travel that far. But I went. Time passed by as I was calculating what could be done next if I really did not find my marksheets. I was certain that I had not left them anywhere, but if I hadn't why on earth couldn't I find them?

I found the officer to whom I had submitted the university form three weeks ago and sadly told him the entire story, that I could not find the marksheets, so could I take admission based on the attested xerox copies of them? He asked me my name, and I told him.

To my surprise he then smiled and asked for my father's name. Next he took out a piece of paper and read out my phone number. There! I realised immediately what was happening.

"You had left your marksheets here at the counter when you submitted the form," he said. "I would have called you today had you not come."

"Oh," said I. What else could I say?

It was unbelievable that I had done the stupidest thing in the world. And also, I had lost my marksheets three weeks back and I didn't even notice! And then, finally when I did notice after three weeks I got them back in less than two-and-a-half hours!

I did not have to be tensed for more than two hours. Anyone in my place realising the marksheets were missing at any time before the actual one would have gone mad I guess. But just look at my luck. I did not have to go through any trauma, and run around to a bunch of places. I just got them as though they were waiting for me.

Maybe God had planned it out for me, eh? Maybe he just wanted to show me how very careless I am, and I shouldn't be like this at least regarding my career. Well, if that be the case then it's a lesson well carried out and properly learnt.

I thanked the officer a number of times. It was straight from the heart, and I think he knew it. In less than 5mins I had all the three marksheets in my hand, along with the admission form, ID card and fees book.

"It would have costed at least some thousands of rupees if you wanted to have duplicates of those," said the officer.

But I was not concerned about the money. What mattered more was that I wouldn't have been able to get admission for masters. However, worries were over and I was grateful to God for easing out the situation for me. Outside, a soft cool breeze was blowing. The world by then had become marvellous and immensely beautiful.

That day when I came back home with my lost jewels I could hardly believe that I had ever lost them!

Ants Ants All Around!

2009-08-16T21:00:00.001+05:30

What is wrong with ants these days I wonder. For some reason they have become pretty fond of me today, crawling on me as if I'm their new home. They are all over my T-shirt and shorts! Why I wonder. Am I that sweet? The last time I remember being sweet was about two-and-a-half years ago. Since then I have become a mixture of salt and pepper, add some tamarind if you like.

Now I'm reconsidering my judgment. Maybe I still have some 'sweet' left in me. Why else are the ants coming? They are not there on the bed, or on the chair, or anywhere I'm likely to get them from. And yet, there they are, from time to time.

Since my last attack on them, about two hours ago, I have not discovered any on my clothes so far. As you can understand that with good reasons I feel they have finally discarded me. Yippi :)

To You, my friend

2009-08-16T00:32:00.003+05:30

Good friends are very hard to come by in this treacherous world. It is especially difficult to find such a loving, caring and wonderful friend like you. Now that you are going away I find myself groping for words to express what I really feel for you and how important you are to me.

It is immensely depressing no doubt. But I am happy for you. You are now ready to make a place for yourself and look at life from a different perspective altogether. You will learn, O yes, and you will grow. It’s finally time for you to spread your wings and fly!

Life is like that river which always flows remorselessly. On that flow we are based. We are always changing, always growing because of what we see, always expecting to see new things - an expectation resembling that of a child's. We are on a train called 'destiny', racing through the wildness of the unexpected beauty in the land of 'forever', or an endless journey with no turning back.

I wish you live upto your expectations and fulfil all your dreams. Your path is for you to pave, and your destiny for you to choose. There should be no regret, no questioning your decisions or derision on your judgments. My best wishes are with you dear friend. I know you will succeed.

I have always admired your determination and courage to dream big. You deserve everything you aim for. Wish you all the very best. And as you always know, I am forever by your side...

Much love,

Jhilik

Strange Meetings!

2009-06-25T20:30:00.002+05:30

As we move on in life, at times we have those few minutes' friends, who are always nice, fun to talk to, and share a part of their lives with us - all without a reason.

Today, like many other days, I found these two girls standing in front of me. The line at Ramakrishna Mission was staggering (as I was quite an inexperienced buff, like most of the couple of hundreds who had gathered). Learning a foreign language was always a fascinating desire, an overwhelming and powerful (but apparently not much useful) ambition. And so I was there, after my graduation - an old kid bubbling with excitement at the prospect of learning another piece of this world.

The two girls were there for the same purpose, as were the rest of the crowd. However, it was not merely the passion or love for the subject that had brought these two there. They wanted to build their careers. And most people there were the same. I was proud to be an exception. My father always says, "When you learn a subject, forget what you get from it in return. Just love it, and give it your best! And one day, it will pay you back."

I observed my companions - two complete strangers - with sincere interest. The first girl was plump, dark complexioned, a bit shorter than me, and had trouble speaking in English. In other words, she was plain, sweet, and one of the numerous 'girl-next-door' type. The other one was pretty, fair, tall and smart - a full careerist, further trying to enhance her career by learning German. The first girl was doing BBA Hons under Sikkim Manipal University, the other one just about to complete her MCA under CU. Two girls from two different worlds. One was shy, soft-spoken and sweet, the other was outspoken, modern and jolly.

However, in that one hour's aquaintance, none of us bothered to exchange names or phone numbers or words like 'we'll meet again'... It was just so genuine! Such a placid flow of friendly cordiality! It was warm, affectionate and polite. Who was that girl? I do not know. The MCA girl even wished me good bye after about an hour had elapsed from the time she disappeared for her German admission, and I for French. And yet, there was that smile! A soothing, pleasant smile.

There was no silly question like, 'Do you have a boyfriend?' or 'What was your class 12 percentage?' Fact was, we knew there was nothing to ask from each other, nothing to give. And why bother complicating things? Let us be simple and cheerful. Life has its surprises and treasure chest. I only wish everyone else was the same. I wish people had that friendly outlook towards life, and not be hypocritical in their expectations and promises. I wish... oh! I just wish we were all genuine!

And that makes me think. May be, this world is not for me...

Why Are We So Submissive?

2009-06-24T22:25:00.001+05:30

The ideal life of work, fun and freedom is occasionally found missing among many people. The usual doldrums of life, the daily rituals to be performed by an ‘individual’, the regular surrender of many dreams and desires of our hearts, listening to one’s parents and always doing what they say – this is the way of life with innumerable ‘individuals’ in our country. But are they really ‘individuals’? Where lies their individuality? I can only see them as highly submissive ‘common’ people.

Yes, they are common. One will especially find girls to be so. But why? What is so special about being an obedient daughter? Even after they have left school, or even college, these girls are always ‘daughters’ and not ‘women’. They give up so easily! Mother says, ‘No, I’ll not let you move to another city and do a job away from home’, and the obedient daughter gives up her dream job and settles down at her place. WHY?

Why on earth aren’t we stubborn? Why do we give up so easily? These girls don’t have the guts to stand up against their parents and say, ‘I’ll do what I want’. They can only pester for sometime and then give up, no matter how big their dreams are.

A girl really wanted to study English at college, but her father scolded her saying she should be doing engineering only. And so the girl gave up what she wanted and did what was asked from her. Another girl wanted to learn Chinese. Her parents said doing an extra course would hamper her studies, so she would not be allowed to do it. And the girl obediently follows.

Why on earth are they so submissive?

When these people talk about their ‘dreams’ I feel they are joking. They say they have these big dreams, but they let them go so very easily! Are these dreams ever ambitions? I believe the submissive people’s dreams are just ‘fancies’, lying in the cradle of hope and always-out-of-reach desires. It is somewhat like dreaming about being a Cinderella one day. A lovely dream! But it will never come true.

Is that life? Is that what you want? A girl once told me she just wants to ‘get married and settle down’. Is that a way of life? If you dream, why don’t you have the guts to make your dream come true? WHY?

I say, be arrogant. Be so arrogant and irritatingly stubborn that everyone will be forced to listen to you. Be so confident about what you want to do that the world will be forced to trust you. Be so strong willed that no one will be able to deviate you from your path.

Never Compromise With Your Life!

If you give up once, your parents will make you give up again and again. They just want girls to stay at home ‘safely’, like a sleeping beauty, never to go into the real world, never to face any problem. It is because of them that people in our country are delicate petals of flowers. When faced with real disasters these people dry out in a matter of a few hours or break like glass. And before dying they are full of regrets.

Why be like that? I say, be what you want. Do what you want. Live your life fully. It’s time we grow up. Our parents are always immature. It is WE who have to break their orthodox outlook. WE have to take the initiative to make a better life for ourselves. WE have to achieve our destiny!

It’s good to dream. But we also have to dream of making our dreams come true.

Yearning For The Yearning

2009-06-22T23:05:00.006+05:30

Just before giving my Part III exam of B.A. English Honours, I had this strange longing for being free from the shackles of our boring education system. I wanted to be left alone. I yearned for the time when I would be able to sit down and write. But the trammels of the material world denied me the freedom I longed for, denied me the very pleasure of being alive.

It was at that time, I had these storylines in my mind. I laughed and cried as I visualized my stories. I was so engrossed in them that I did not even bother to study. I was lost, yes - lost in the dreams buried deep inside my heart. My creativity was flowing. I was a mad artist for sometime; I was a fanatic like the Joker. Nothing else in the world mattered to me then. I was in the world of my dreams, and I wanted to pass on my dreams to people. I wanted to put them to words.

I forgot about my exams. I devoured my time like a thirsty traveller devouring water in an oasis. I was drowning in the reveries of my past visions and new fantasies. I am probably one of those rare few who get immensely drunk without taking even a single drop of alcohol. And so I was flying high, high, and high!

And then – CRASH!

The four papers of my final year went horribly wrong. This wasn’t expected of a student holding first class in English Honours under Calcutta University. But as always, I was an exception. I was not worried. Nothing in the world could bother me. Many people, including my parents and relatives, probably think that somehow I can manage to hold on to the first class. But I don’t find it hard to disappoint people. It’s ever so easy for me!

You see, I am only ever concerned about something that appeals to both my heart and mind. I can put my life on a thing of that sort and work hard for it. But if I don’t get anything of that kind, then I’m the laziest person in the world. That’s the sad case of this unacknowledged artist. I rarely get something that truly fascinates me and demands me to work hard for it. And therefore, I’m universally lazy.

I did not even feel guilty for murdering my final papers. I was just a bit depressed. Why though? It’s because then, I had to make a choice. It was the choice of my life. I had to choose between my academics (that would lead to a job and an ‘average’ life) and my dream (that would make me either a winner or a loser, which meant it was downright risky). But I had to make a choice.

Suddenly my vision went blank. I was again flying. This time, I was going higher. Again I was lost in the rainbow of dreams - a rare bliss experienced by very few. In that dreamland I waited and thought. What I was exactly thinking and of what magnitude I cannot tell. But even now my mentality is the same.

The type of life preferred by everyone is usually that of a normal life. These people want to be one of the middle class or higher middle class. They are, in a more precise word, 'common'. And these people together form what we call 'common people'. The commons want to do a job, earn a living and have a family one day. It's a happy and peaceful life. But I soon decided that this life is not really meant for me.

For maniacs like me, there are just two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing really matters, in which case you are free to be non-existent. You are free to be one with nature. You are free to die on the street or wherever you want. You are just FREE. And then you think that the world of civilization is fake. It is nothing, like the matrix. In this case, you leave this artificial world behind you and walk on the road of nature, unravelling her beauty and purity. Politics, hypocrisy, fight for promotion - these won't matter. You will learn to hate mankind, to realise how futile we actually are.

The other one is to be a blazing exception in this fake world, to be 'someone' among the 'no one's. You will want to leave your footprints on the sands of time. And if this fails, you always have the previous plan to fall back on. If you belong to this group then you are bound to be passionate about something - anything which you want to achieve - one ambition.

I have my dreams. And I want to fulfill my dreams. So I fall in the second group. But I also share views of the first group. I want my freedom, I want nature, and I want success. I want to achieve all my dreams.

And so I chose my option. Therefore, I ought not to feel guilty. I have chosen my path. Exams, degrees, promotions don't matter to me any more. My life is the life of freedom. I am free to do what I want, free to live my life my way.

But there's just one problem: I'm not doing anything.

The yearning that was there in me before my exams is lost. Ever since my exams were over all I'm doing is chatting, hanging out, watching TV and having fun. Is this the way of life I want? Well, of course, I want to have fun and live my life to the fullest. But not at the cost of my work. My motto should be 'work hard, party harder'. Yet, I am wasting my time every day. That very yearning that was there in me to write, write, write, is missing.

I realised this a few days back. And now I've decided that if I am to do something good in this life, I have to utilise my time to the fullest. I'm going to study foreign languages, do my masters and also keep on writing. Time is a precious little thing. Once lost, it cannot be regained. And in the mean time my age is increasing. Like everyone, my time in this life is limited. And so, I must make the best use of it.

I just want the yearning back.

The Walking Song

2009-06-13T22:00:00.003+05:30

This is a poem from 'The Lord Of The Rings' by J.R.R. Tolkien. It is one of my favourite books of all time. One main reason is of course, the imagination. This book is one world - one complete world, with its mythologies and stories and history and fear. But I like the novel also because of the soothing calmness and richness of the wonderful language, the very feel of the exotic and noble aspect of human existence. It is an achievement in grandeur and royalty.

And out of the many poems in the book, this is the only one that represents my mind. It is the burning desire of my heart. It speaks the hidden unspoken language of my depths, exploring the essences and spices, mingled with the feel of adventure and the need of freedom.

Here it is:

Upon the hearth the fire is red,

Beneath the roof there is a bed;

But not yet wary are our feet,

Still round the corner we may meet

A sudden tree or standing stone

That none have seen but we alone

Tree and flower and leaf and grass,

Let them pass! Let them pass!

Hill and water under sky,

Pass them by! Pass them by!

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe,

Let them go! Let them go!

Sand and stone and pool and dell,

Fare you well! Fare you well!

Home is behind, the world ahead,

And there are many paths to tread

Through shadows to the edge of night,

Until the stars are all alight.

Then world behind and home ahead,

We'll wander back to home and bed.

Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,

Away shall fade! Away shall fade!

Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,

And then to bed! And then to bed!

Who is God?

2008-12-24T00:24:00.004+05:30

The concept of God is very perplexing. It has been debated among people ever since the dawn of civilisation: who really is God? In recent times, another aspect has been added to the already confusing subject: is there a God at all? A group of people have emerged, called atheists, who are devoid of any belief in God.

But is there really no God? For that purpose we have to consider what we actually believe to be God. To some, God is a fatherly figure, full of love and tenderness. This is the definition that provokes the atheists. The present sufferings of the people on earth obviously make them ask, if there really is a God who is a creature of love then why do people suffer so?

Many religions provide many answers to this question. Interestingly, all these answers are wildly different from each other. Some religions just accept the fact that there is sin, and man has to fight against it, without any explanation why there should be any form of evil at all. But the most surprising fact of all is that every religion says that it has the ultimate faith, which in itself is impossible, taking into account how all religions bizarrely differ from one another. Obviously, they can’t all be telling the truth. It could as well be doubted whether there is any religion at all that has anything called the ultimate truth.

The story goes that God created the universe. He is the ultimate jurisdiction for right and wrong. But all things didn’t go as He had planned. Satan went bad because he was ambitious. He provoked the human beings to disobey God. And thus God brought pain, suffering and death to earth. On Judgement Day God will again restore peace, and there will no longer be any pain, suffering or death. Isn’t it too much of a fairytale? The very fault of the story is, why should there be a Satan? Why did he become evil at all?

One explanation is that God is testing us. But this is not a satisfying answer. One does not inflict pain upon his loved ones deliberately just to ‘test’ their faith and devotion. Also, if our ancestors did something bad then that is no reason for God to make us suffer. This is illogical. Even we humans, supposed to be cruel, don’t give punishment to children if their parents are sinners and criminals. We all know that it is inhuman. If we can be that understanding, shouldn’t God also be so? We are asked to believe that God is full of love. Just as you can’t get salt out of sugar, you can’t get evil out of good or hatred out of love either. So if God is love then He cannot create anything evil. Following this logic we have to accept that the evil we have to endure is not created by God. Therefore, if there is any evil, it is beyond the power of God. This is not desirable either.

Of course, we cannot deny the existence of God. All the miracles around us are proofs that there is a power higher than the human beings. A common scientific mind may not see any miracle at all, but the real scientists always see miracles in everything. Einsteind said, "There are two ways to live: one is by believing that nothing is miracle, the other by believing that everything is a miracle." This is because as they gain deeper understanding of science they can see how perfectly our world is created. The existence of life itself is the greatest miracle of all time. The biological structure of a human body, for example, is so perfectly designed that no machine created by any scientist in the world can ever reach up to it. The way even a single body cell functions is amazing. The feeling of love, hatred, amusement, appreciation, creativity can never be explained by science. How do these emotions and qualities arise in the human mind? No one knows. The proportion of oxygen found on earth, the force of gravity, the duration of day and night, the change of seasons – all these are too perfect to have occurred on their own or by an accident. Even Einstein accepted his belief in a superpower.

We discern two distinguished views on God - the orthodox mentality of God and the modern atheism. But these are the two extremes of belief. The very common figure of God that is presented to us, and the complete disbelief in God are both stretched in their own ways. However, there can always be a medium train of thought. What if there is a God who is somewhat indifferent towards us? The creation of this perfect world can be explained by this logic. Also it explains why people suffer.

But if God created us then why should He be indifferent towards us? For a logical answer to this we must first believe that God is only indifferent towards us when considered individually. As a whole, the story is different. We must not be so selfish to consider only our individual gains and desires. We have to consider everything as one, as a united whole. Also, we have to discard the view that God is only good, that He is completely pure and loving, kind and generous. God is everything – He is both good and evil, meek and ferocious, kind and cruel, positive and negative.

If you mind believing God to be both good and evil then this same theory can be broken and shown in another way, but to represent the same logic. We then have to consider not one, but two supreme powers, one good and one evil. Just like every pair of opposites, there should be a pair of opposites in supremacy also, like we find in Bible: God and Satan.

I am quoting a few things from another post in this same blog under the title 'Matter And Antimatter: Is There A Zero?'

I recently read the book Angels and Demons, and I must admit it is very intelligently written. Few writers may ever reach the height of writing such an intelligent work of fiction, which Dan Brown has achieved. The book touches some fine concepts. The discovery of antimatter sheds light on many matters, both physical as well as spiritual. The bottom line is this: Everything has an opposite. We were created in that way. Proton–electron is the most common example. In case of abstract things as well there are numerous examples: war – peace, truth – lies, good – bad, God - Satan. The comparison can be made in case of most things. Every night is followed by a day. If God is considered in this light then beyond any doubt He is a combination of opposites – of such opposites that when they cancel each other the result is a Zero.

The efficiency of the way our world works is also based on opposites. As it was written by Newton in his third law: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. How true! This is the most important law that shapes our lives. The action can be anything. The amount of good that is done is equalled by bad. The more justice we seek (and get) the more crimes we have. This view raises several questions - many, in fact.

Equal amount of matter and antimatter react together and cancel each other, forming zero. That is interesting, and in the same way one may say if all the positives and negatives are added then the resultant will again be zero. It is simplistic enough. But when the same concept is applied to all our actions, all the good and evil, all the happiness and depression, then people tend to feel uneasy. They shouldn’t be blamed for it. One can say, there are many people on earth who are much happier than others, who are rolling on money and prosperity while there are many others who don’t get to eat anything. True. Some people suffer throughout their lives, while others hardly feel any pain. However, we should keep in mind that the law may not apply to one person at one lifetime, as I have mentioned earlier. We must see humanity as a whole, in time absolute. One must remember that the law does not apply during a particular time-period. Newton says that every action has an opposite reaction, but how and when he does not clarify. We have no way of knowing it.

We must consider the entire existence to be a big flat zero. Ever since creation, matter goes one way to create earth and anti-matter goes another way, who knows where! The matter changes with time, cools down, creates life with evolution and so on. What happens then? Life has its opposite – death. Creation has destruction. Animals are driven by instincts, humans by intelligence, by ‘free will’ as the Bible calls it. Animals hardly have actions. They only look for food, and reproduce to maintain their race. Their small actions are met by death in the end. They hardly change the earth. Their contribution is too little. And this brings us back to humans. Look at civilisations. Has even one of them survived? Each civilisation rises, attains its own height and then is swept away by time. It gets lost in the tide of history. We only know these from the pages of books, from relics left behind, from researches based on these made by brilliant experts. The Zero therefore, is not attained immediately; it continues in a circle. That circle starts from zero, rises slowly to reach the ultimate height, and then again crumbles back to Zero.

Hinduism has an interesting and useful light to shed on this matter. It defines four Yugas (one Yug is a long time of thousands of years and bears a special trait that distinguishes it from the others) – Satya, Dapar, Treta, and Kali. Satya Yug is the purest – it’s the time of truth and justice, peace and happiness. As the Yugas change, people become dirtier and time more depressive. As you can guess, Kali Yug is the worst of all. Crime is supreme; injustice and poverty reign. It is said in Hinduism and some other beliefs all around the world that after this extremity there comes a sudden change in the world, after which mankind is re-established bringing back the Satya Yug. We may consider the story of Noah here. In the Bible the people at Noah’s time were very bad and oppressive. For that reason God created a great flood drowning all the wicked ones. Then it starts all over again from good. And yet the people turn bad and start to kill each other, as we see in our age. It can easily be seen that all over it’s just the same. One such story exists everywhere. And hence, the concept of an ultimate Zero, revolving in a circle, is also present everywhere.

So, if you consider one complete cycle of these Yugas to be a big zero then the third law of Newton can well be explained from here. You may say that all the good things in the Satya Yug are balanced by the evil in Kali Yug. Together then, they will form a zero. No doubt, people now suffer more.

This theory of God helps mankind to achieve a balance between the orthodox mentality about God and the philosophy of the atheists. One can believe in the supernatural, without being blind about it and considering it’s interference in our lives. Thus, we shall finally be able to accept the severe reality of our lives. Instead of indulging in false hopes, we should look to find solutions to our problems on our own, rather than falling in the belief that ‘one day God will make everything all right again.’

The intelligent and foresighted people will undoubtedly discern the truth about God, about His being a combination of opposites. After that what course of action an individual will take is completely based on his drive and instincts. However, I must mention here the famous words by Voltaire that ‘If there were no God it would be necessary to invent Him.’ The fear of God is sometimes the only force that controls the criminal instincts in some people. We need this fear to drive humanity towards good. No matter what God truly is, we certainly need Him.

Brand New Breeze - Part II : Hope

2008-10-31T18:38:00.001+05:30

Gone was the dawn of her life. The clearing eastern sky seemed bloody. It had lost the look of innocence and life. The Sun would peep from there, only to find this part of the world destroyed.

But would it stop the Sun from rising?
No. The Sun would keep rising and setting as it always used to, until its work is done.

The girl couldn’t hold herself. The lump in her throat was unbearably painful. And why shouldn’t it be? It was the pain of the destruction of her entire family, the entire village and many other villages along with its many lives. All these combined, it had to be too great a pain for a young girl as that.

She burst out crying. She cried and cried until her eyes were sore, she cried until her lungs were exhausted, she cried until she lost all her energy and fell on the ground. But she still cried. She writhed in agony and fury. To whom would she ask for the justice of this tragedy? Who was to blame and who was to compensate?

Everything was obscure and blurry. A touch of heat roused her from her half subconscious state. She looked up to find the Sun peeping out from the horizon. On any other day the Sun would give her hope … but today?

The Sun would never stop rising, no matter what. She pondered over this. Why does the Sun never stop? She already knew the answer. The Sun cannot stop until its work is done. And she?

Yes, she must also have a purpose.

As she thought, a gust of wind, like a wave of hope, washed the rotten, slimy place, drowning the smell of death, decay and destruction. It brought with it a freshness; it unleashed the smell of hope.

It was a Brand New Breeze …

The breeze washed away the smell of salty, stuffy air. It brought with it a new day - for bringing a renewal - a renewal of life.

The wind slapped against her face, drying her tears and giving her hope – yes, Hope. So at last, Hope had come. And Hope it indeed was, for she found power within herself; she found meaning to her life; she found determination. Whatever work was left for her, she would do it.

No one could ever make up for what the villagers had lost; no one could ever gain it back. But like the girl, they all heard their calling, in the form of a Brand New Breeze - that touched the faces and their living hearts - forever!

Brand New Breeze - Part I : Sorrow

2008-09-28T12:17:00.001+05:30

The damp moist air drowned every feeling of happiness or victory. The joy of being alive soon sunk into oblivion as the scene gradually unfolded. The eyes became used to the darkness and the vagueness slowly disappeared. It brought with it the smell of death, decay and destruction, the stench of flesh and blood, of depression and devastation. The shattered mirror of life reflected a thousand images of hopeless, lifeless figures - their souls had departed. The proof of God’s cruelty on earth, his betrayal to mankind added a swelling sentiment in the hearts of the living few. The lips quivered to ask, ‘Why?’

It was gone. The storm was over. But the effect of it?

The feet dragged forward. The eyes had got used to the darkness outside, but the gloom inside was swelling like the blackest night. No hope. No light. No life. Only a deep sorrow, that could not be drowned by tears. Everything was gone, destroyed - forever.

Homes were shattered, families torn apart. Oh, the cruelty of it! The injustice of the Almighty! The rest should have been dead too. But they were alive to experience the bitter mockery of life, to feel the loss of their loved ones. A mourning grief of anguish and agony caused the love to increase tenfold. The dead still reigned the hearts of the living.

The small group huddled together. Mud and muck filled the site. Scattered leaves and branches of trees distorted the place. Love was lost. This was all that remained of the loving homes they had built for their loved ones. One can erect a house, but can it so easily become a ‘home’?

A young girl, one of the few alive, slowly started walking away from the small group. Her life was in complete darkness. None of the people she knew was spared. Where would she go? What would she do?

She slowly recalled what her grandmother used to say, ‘Life is small, my child. But what we experience in one lifetime is too big for it. That is why life is so fast and furious.’ She could realize it now.

The girl could not stop herself from thinking about her childhood, about the life she had even a few hours ago, about her parents, her little sister. How they loved her! How she adored her sister! How they used to eat and chat!

But alas, none of them was ever going to talk to her again. No words of love or sympathy could ever make up for what she had lost. Her heart and soul were torn apart. Was there any hope? She was drowning - drowning deep down. There was no board or plank to hold on to that could save her from sinking into oblivion. And yet, she was alive.

But why???

West Bengal: A Land of Death and Despair

2008-05-20T20:55:00.002+05:30

For some days now people are dying here every now and then. A healthy and remarkably happy person when sets out of home for work doesn’t know whether he will return back or not. Strikes and roadblocks have become a part and parcel of daily life. I feel suffocated.

Whether you are a simple shopper or an innocent voter, your life is not yours anymore. It is not you who will decide what to do with your life, whether you will live or die. Foolish politicians, blind coincidence and sheer accidents are the boss of our lives now. One’s aspirations, inspirations, freedom, rights --- these are not his anymore.

I happened to witness a roadblock. One of the busiest junctions of Kolkata was blocked for what reason God also didn’t know (I guess He wasn’t even interested). I was stuck a long distance away from the place of action. So we couldn’t even see if there was a block or something else. News travels through air, they say. That was how we came to know all about the ugly business.

Some children were returning home from school. They were hungry. Their mothers were at a loss as to how they should keep their nagging children calm in an absolutely ‘no-way-out’ situation. There was also a newborn baby who was crying miserably in the heat and suffocation. This was not the children’s fault. What did they understand of politics? Were they even acquainted with the term? But there they were, deprived from going home, even when they were hungry and thirsty and almost itching in the heat. Children’s suffering is always too bad to watch. But did the politicians care?

I think when babies learn to talk they first say ‘maa’. I bet the next word they learn to say is ‘politics’, or at least they will from this generation onwards. As I was watching the helpless children and some old ones for whom it was too much to bear in April heat, the bus driver kept hurling abuses at the politicians. ‘Why don’t you guys go and give your lecture to people who want to listen?’ His companion said, ‘They know that no one wants to listen. That’s why they are forcing us to.’ It was very true, I thought. Who wants to listen to brawling ill-educated politicians? Probably these children in the bus had more knowledge than them. Imagine on whose hands our country is running!

Since it was too much for me to bear I hopped down the bus after about waiting for 15 minutes. It was better to walk on the empty road than remain stuck in the suffocating bus. My destination wasn’t far away and a friend was waiting for me. Not many people could leave because they had to go far away. I felt sorry for them.

As I was walking I observed many dead vehicles loaded with passengers, every one of them angry and frustrated because of the state of affairs in our nation, more so in our state. It was really hot that day and the people were really in a pathetic condition. Then I realised I had almost come to the place which was the centre of all these problems.

Someone was saying over a microphone, ‘We are very happy that you have gathered to listen to us. Please stay where you are and be patient.’ I looked back. No one had gathered there to listen to them! What were they talking about? If the people were given a choice they wouldn’t even think before saying a flat ‘no’ to these politicians’ requests of listening to their golden speech! This was bad.

Obviously I did not stay there to listen to them. I was happy with my decision. It felt nice walking on the road. A cool soft breeze was blowing. I knew the traffic wouldn’t be stopped for long. But who cares! It makes no sense sitting in a packed bus when it’s not moving. When I had almost reached my destination I saw some vehicles coming from the opposite side. According to my watch, the people had waited for about 25 minutes before they had started moving.

My displeasure is not much. No citizen’s displeasure matters much to our politicians. That’s why our ‘Didi’ goes on declaring strikes every now and then. She never considers the poor people to whom it’s like torture. My father will buy things for the next day, and will leave for his office at 5 in the morning, that is before the bandh starts. But what about them whose lives depend on regular wage? Does our Didi care?

Even Shah Rukh Khan had to get stuck in a roadblock, so what are we! We have come to such a position where all the leaders are the bad guys. If you have a problem, going to the leaders will only worsen it. Protesting is also a crime now. All our artists were taken into custody for raising their voices against what was apparently ‘wrong’. This is life here in West Bengal.

And if that wasn’t enough, we are now having accidents, bombings, killings and what not! Everyday I see in the newspaper that someone is dying, more so in groups. What is not happening here? We are in hell! So, if you are here, well, no pressure. But you have no hope either. None of us has any hope until our entire political system is drastically changed. This is not at all easy. It is made even more difficult because no one likes to get into muck in order to clear it. Besides, who doesn’t want to live? One good man can’t make a good show on our political stage. If it’s a single-handed effort, then the hand will be cut much before it has even started. You would think we under an Authoritarian government, whereas in reality the term is ‘Democratic’.

So friends, Welcome To West Bengal: The Land Of Misrule!

Frustrated Creativity or Creativity Out Of Frustration?

2008-04-28T16:04:00.002+05:30

Frustration inspires creativity. The widely acknowledged fact, if put to good use, can work wonders. However, it also provokes a certain degree of uncertainty and failure. It is said that failure is the pillar of success, but better to remember that failure can’t always lure someone into success. So is there any positive side of frustration?

The question is why someone feels frustrated. It’s because something is not going right for a long time. What to do? Well, either make it right, or cut it away from your life, or forget it temporarily (if possible) and move on.

Whenever I feel frustrated I try to divert my mind into other things. Probably that forces me to do something creative. My problems can be found among some other youngsters. And what are these? Well, I can’t be a calm Bengali girl, stay at one place all my life, get married, give birth to some children and forever remain stuck in the maze of life. Maze did I say? Well, other mazes are still exciting, but this maze I’m talking about is not even interesting enough. It’s a petty one, where there is only one circular way, and absolutely no way out. I do not want to spend my life working in an office, following orders from my boss, and forever be in peace with my boring life. I can’t accept small success and small achievements. I want it big in life.

Result: Frustration.

Some people tend to believe that life is all about fun. ‘Have as much fun as possible, and you shall be happy’ – says their commandment. But is it really so? Maybe it applies to some people, who don’t have creativity or power to put more effort to make it big, but I’m not one of them. Fun is important, but it’s not the parcel of life. Friends are important, but not in every minute of your free time. Some people think that they should do some office work, and when they are free they should be with their friends and have fun. I see nothing wrong there. If you are happy with your life then that’s all one can hope for.

But creative people won’t be able to maintain a life like that. If you are creative and yet maintain this lifestyle, you will get bored, and after sometime, start feeling frustrated. Others don’t understand this. These ‘fun-loving’ people think that the creative people who are not like them are pretty boring and useless. The fun-loving people don’t see that creativity cannot come out of completely normal things. If you are creative, you are a bit mad. Not all creative people make it big in life, and hence the fun-lovers say that these people have a wrong notion of life, that the creative people are silly enough not to enjoy the world bestowed on them. The fun-lovers think it is extremely bad if you like to be alone at times. They will imagine it’s because you don’t have friends (perhaps you are very boring!) and they will caution you by saying that lots of troubles are on your way (as if you don’t know) and that no one will help you if you don’t mingle with people like they do.

So what they say is something like this: after working on the weekdays why should you still try to work in your free time? What’s the point in trying to hone your creative skills? Better chill out with friends. Your friends you hang out with can help you if you are in trouble.

They don’t appreciate the fact that you are trying to do something good in life, trying to make your efforts and skills known to people, trying to achieve something, trying to make your presence felt in the society, and working very hard to achieve all of these. They see no point in what you do. They can only say ‘Chill Out’.

I was telling a friend that in future I would like to do some work in the weekdays and pursue my creative interests in the weekend and whatever other time I get. I had mentioned of course that friends are also important and I would spend some time with them, but not every weekend and all my free time. My friend cautioned me that this was not at all good. Imagine! My dreams, my hopes, my efforts, are ‘bad’ and ‘useless’. But if I say that I only want to do a job to earn some money every month and then spend all my time ‘having fun with friends’ then I’m sure it will be very much appreciated.

I don’t know why people who don’t have any creativity in them and who don’t even understand it try to comment on these things. I would rather like to be left alone than be in company of such people. Not only they don’t understand you they don’t even respect your efforts. Why? Because you are not like them!

This is also frustrating, and I don’t feel like arguing. I do not see anything wrong in those who don’t have any creativity. Their lives mean going to work and spending the remaining time with friends. But they should respect people who are different, who are creative. I can’t be like them for the fear of little problems in life. Even they will have problems in spite of having so many friends to help them out.

Our education system is also not comforting. I could have been doing so many things now but that will not be allowed. We have little scope. And with the high rise population of this country people are ready to kill for a job! I wonder sometimes, if you put all the people of India one on top of the other, all standing straight (just imagine, I know its not possible) then won’t we reach the Moon? Probably we’ll cross it and go somewhere else! Such being the case, it has become survival of the fittest in India. You may ask how China is doing so well (not now though, Tibet is quite an issue). But probably you have not taken into account our exploitations, illiteracy, lack of planning, lack of dedicated people, lack of educated (or lets just say ‘good’) politicians. How can we probably reach the height of China’s achievement?

So whatever thoughts I had about doing a job for taking care of my needs and then honing my creative skills, is like a desperate game of life and death. People are fighting for even the lowest paid job there is. So now, poor me, I cannot concentrate on what I really wish to do, but rather spend hours wondering how I’m going to afford myself! Disaster of the game is, even if you are talented you get lost in the crowd (and in such an unorganised crowd as that in India). Again frustration.

Sometimes I feel like leaving everything here, every friend and relative, and going somewhere else to start life on a different note. Here people don’t understand me, don’t appreciate my thoughts. In fact I feel really surprised to see how little some people understand. Frustration reigning everywhere.

But to tell the truth, there is no place on earth that is completely satisfying. I only want to go to a place with favourable conditions where I can do my work in peace. However, there will always be drawbacks. Let us not be frustrated with this. We must carry on our journey, in search of a better life, in search of a better goal. We have to work our way out!

Friends and relatives are also important. It is said ‘fate chooses our relatives, we choose our friends.’ Too true. But people misunderstand the concept. Most of them choose wrong people. One should be really careful in choosing friends, because they play a very crucial role. Your success or failure may depend on your friends. I’ve seen some guys who think they have the best of friends in the world, that their friends love them and help them. But it’s not so. In most cases these so-called friends only create hindrances. They waste your time like anything. This is not gyaan. I’ve experienced this myself. Friends are not those who indirectly ask you to waste your time. Friends are those who understand you, know your potential and inspire you to achieve your best. If seen in this light I doubt if many of us would be left with ‘friends’. I’m lucky to have a few.

Being absolutely lonely, with no one to inspire or motivate, can also be a big frustration. Better to choose people who are like you rather than to try to be like them who are really not like you. Pretensions never lead to satisfaction.

Money is a big frustration for poor people. This is really a big problem. But one thing we should remember and remind anyone who tends to forget: our society has had the biggest contributions from people who eventually rose from poverty. Look at the world, read history, observe our society and you will see, most people who revolutionised the world, who changed our lives forever, were all very poor. Poverty can be frustration, but also big motivation.

I don’t know what else needs to be told. There is always frustration among creative people. It is only our motivation that can shape our lives and help us achieve what we are meant to achieve. Believe me, no one is ordinary. It is a matter of how much we try. If you do, you will achieve what is meant for you!

Matter and Antimatter: Is there a Zero?

2008-04-25T12:57:00.001+05:30

I recently read the book Angels and Demons, and I must admit it is very intelligently written. Few writers may ever reach the height of writing such an intelligent work of fiction, which Dan Brown has achieved. The book touches some fine concepts. The discovery of antimatter sheds light on many matters, both physical as well as spiritual. The bottom line is this: Everything has an opposite. We were created in that way. Proton – electron, just as in case of abstract things as well: war – peace, truth – lies, good – bad. The comparison can be made in case of most things. Even every night is followed by a day.

The efficiency of the way our world works is also based on opposites. As it was written by Newton: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. How true! This is the most important law that shapes our lives. The action can be anything. The amount of good that is done is equalled by bad. The more justice we seek (and get) the more crimes we have. This view raises several questions - many, in fact. I have questioned them myself and am continually searching for answers. Here I’ll try to answer some of them according to what they seem to me.

Equal amount of matter and antimatter react together and cancel each other, forming zero. That is interesting, isn’t it? One may say if all the positives and negatives are added then the resultant will again be zero. It is simplistic enough. But when the same concept is applied to all our actions, all the good and evil, all the happiness and depression, then people tend to feel uneasy. I don’t blame them. One can say, as I have, there are many people on earth who are much happier than others, who are rolling on money and prosperity while there are many who don’t get to eat anything. True. Some people suffer throughout their lives, while others hardly feel any pain. However, we should keep in mind that the law may not apply to one person at one lifetime. You must see humanity as a whole, in time absolute. One must remember that the law does not apply during a particular time-period. Newton says that every action has an opposite reaction, but how and when he does not clarify. We have no way of knowing it.

We must consider the earth to be a big flat zero. Ever since creation, matter goes one way to create earth and anti-matter goes another way, who knows where! The matter changes with time, cools down, creates life with evolution and so on. What happens then? Life has its opposite – death. Creation has destruction. Animals are driven by instincts, humans by intelligence, by ‘free will’ as Bible calls it. Animals hardly have actions. They only look for food, and reproduce to maintain their race. Their actions are met by death in the end. They hardly change the earth. Their contribution is too little. And this brings us back to humans. Look at civilisations. Has even one of them survived? Each civilisation rises, attains its own height and then is swept away by time. It gets lost in the tide of history. We only know these from pages of books, from relics left behind, from researches made by brilliant experts based on these.

Hinduism has interesting and useful light to shed on these matters. It defines four Yugas (one Yug is a long time of thousands of years and bears a special trait that distinguishes it from the others) – Satya, Dapar, Treta, and Kali. Satya Yug is the purest – it’s the time of truth and justice, peace and happiness. As the Yugas change, people become dirtier and time more depressive. As you can guess, Kali Yug is the worst of all. Crime is supreme; injustice and poverty reign. It is said in Hinduism and some other beliefs all around the world that after this extremity there comes a sudden change in the world, after which mankind is re-established bringing back the Satya Yug. Remember the story of Noah? In Bible the people at Noah’s time are very bad and oppressive. What then? God creates a great flood drowning all the wicked ones. Then it starts all over again from good. And yet the people turn bad and start to kill each other. You see, it’s all the same. One such story exists everywhere.

So, if you consider one complete cycle of these Yugas to be a big zero then the third law of Newton can well be explained from here. You may say that all the good things in the Satya Yug are balanced by the evil in Kali Yug. Together then, they will be a zero. No doubt, people now suffer more.

You may still ask: why is your fault in this? It takes us to the concept of soul. This, however, is a belief, no proof or laws there. Buddhism has an answer to this. I do not want to discuss it now. It is entirely different from the concept of absolute zero, concept of matter and antimatter, concept of equivalent exchange. Maybe another time. For now, you may give your brain some food for thought. It never hurts to form your own opinion, which may vary from the rest of the world. Do remember, great people are those who break free from the already formed traditions and concepts, to look for different answers to the same questions, to look at the world differently. Have your will, and if you feel like, let me know!

Many Thanks To Google

2008-04-05T16:30:00.001+05:30

Google is my favourite site. It is a masterpiece of entertainment. My hearty thanks to this wonderful site for making so many things possible, so easily and so fast. What do you need? The simple answer: Only one google account! And then you are free to enjoy gmail (email), gtalk (chat), blogger (blog), orkut (socialising), and even one free website of 100 MB! And all these services come to you for free! That’s the magic of google. If you don’t explore it, you’ll never know what this site has in store for you. With advanced features like google map, language translator, search engine etc, google is a chest of treasure to all net-surfers.

I started my blog only recently, a few days back. This I’ve done thanks to google. There are other sites which provide same facilities, but none with the simplicity and speed that google offers. So once again I thank google for all the things it offers. My time on net is always devoted to google. I wouldn’t be even interested to come online much frequently if google suddenly evaporates, which I sure hope will never happen. Whenever I come online without a specific reason, I’m either on orkut or gmail or, now, my blog. This is only the beginning. Many things will follow.

Jhilik

Hello Everyone!

2008-04-02T12:25:00.000+05:30

This is my first blog. So it's somewhat like a test. There will surely come a lot more (then it won't be just 'testing' but will come with real material). But I need time for that, time to learn what blogging is all about. I'll write soon again. Till then, be in your best spirit!

Your friend,
Jhilik