Potpourri II

Whirlwind days! Intensive cramming and extensive regurgitation and voila two mammoths are handled! Time stood still for a week or so. No, not in the “Time Stops At Shamli” sort of way (Sigh!), but a rather stagnant predicament really! Lots happening around me, within me, without me and I could only be a silent spectator, like standing at the periphery and watching the world go by!(No, I’m not experiencing a Dependency Theory hangover, thank you).My mind is in a mess, so full of things that are waiting to be released! Amen!

Adiga’s Tiger : It may be white, but it is rather bland too! I was extremely disappointed with the book! For one, it was rather clichéd; especially the outcome with its rise of the proletariat intonations. Then there is a difference between reporting a story and the art of story-telling and while Adiga zealously does the former,the latter is forgotten. Telling a story without fuss or frills doesn’t mean one needs to be crass and lose all sense of aestheticism. Catcher In the Rye was realistic right!?! The White Tiger just seemed like a very long magazine article to me with rather confused and un-crystallized ideas and no direction.Its only impact: I am more scared of my driver now than I already was!

The Oscars : Now that was no awards show! It was just a theme party, the theme being India! I was expecting elephants instead of limousines and had Jackman done a "Main hoon Don" instead of "I'm Wolverine",I wouldn't have been shocked!No,REALLY!I wouldn't have been shocked if Anil Kapoor had been awarded a lifetime achievement award for a lifetime of OTT acting finally paying off!I wouldn't have been shocked if Ms. Frieda Pinto had won a statuette! So what if she wasn't nominated? They could have just come up with a new category, silly! This is supposed to be some sort of Big Push to the "Indian" Film Industry! No Satyajit Ray couldn't do it(supposedly)!But apparently this film,which barely made me feel and didn't make me think at all, did !Ah well! Macroeconomics rules !Godspeed "white trash"!
However, I was surprised that Kate Winslet won! She truly deserved it! Now isn't that odd?!? :D

Tull-ed : My Jethro Tull CDs had been lying forgotten for quite some time now. Thanks to a certain person's fixation with "Aqualung" [:P], Tull was retrieved from Oblivion and as always, has made me sufficiently high!So very high with Tull! Sheer genius! I like each song more, every time I hear it. I am humming the War Child Waltz as I type! Freaky! The London Symphony Orchestra playing the music of Jethro Tull with Ian Anderson is one divine album! It is magical and with the orchestra, their music feels, well...infinite! Makes me feel like I’m on "Glory Row" , “ skating away on the thin ice of a new day"...!Come what may..!(Except a hard-disk crash ,god forbid).

Instant Noodles : I sincerely believe that this is one of the greatest inventions of mankind .Its greatness seems all the more pronounced in those post-selections-pre-exams period when there is a lot to do, and no inclination to do anything whatsoever. Instant noodles serves for instant breaks as and when required. The time utility is paramount. The taste: heavenly. The satisfaction: instant. Also it opens up a lot of avenue for culinary creativity. One can season it according to the seasons. There are no fixed rules of preparation. Yes, some might complain that such a gastronomic delight does add to the luxury of one’s waistline, but do I look like I care? There are so many options too! Maggi, Top Ramen, Wai Wai(my current favourite) and even those Chinese ones with unintelligible names! Well, Mr.Momofuku Ando, I am sure the Gods are turning water into instant noodles in heaven, thanks to you!

The Long Goodbye : Bidding farewell to our seniors was difficult.I never thought it would be .The Farewell made me heavy with the gaiety of parting!
Now that I know there won’t be those familiar faces in the canteen(some, "permanent" faces),those tête-à-tête on the corridors, occasional bullying, frequent leg-pulling, those unforgettable Board meetings, handing out of “pearls of wisdom” by them, letting go becomes harder than I imagined. I think it is the whole point of being seniors now , that makes me apprehensive. I don’t know why. Or maybe I do. The reasons are now locked in the cloisters of my memories,some of my best memories.:-)

It’s raining outside. The first rain, of the season. The smell of the wet soil: intoxicating. The trees are going wild with the tempestous wind. A hint of a storm. The road seems like a carpet of fallen leaves. Lightning strikes. A stray dog barks helplessly.There is a mystic uncertainty in the sound of the night. I feel perplexingly tranquil. :-)

When Floyd And Freud Collides.

I dream in blue,
When I'm mellow and blue.

Of cloudy skies, and swirling mists,
Of tears in hell, that persists.
The lightning strikes,
The hail stones fall.
"Goodbye blue skies!"

A voice yonder, calls.

I assure myself,

It is a dream after all!

I dream in red,

When I'm bruised and jaded.

Of tumultuous seas,

And enemies with paranoid eyes.

I see swords and blades,

Spilling wrath and venom.

I see revolutions and anarchy,

And violent atrocities.

I ask myself,

Was it a dream after all ?

I dream in black,

When all my hopes have been marooned.
I see melancholy bores, behind closed doors,

And burning bridges falling apart.

The fat old sun lies pouting, eclipsed,

Hiding a saucerful of secrets lest it slips.

The dark side of the moon is all I see,

When hopelessness echoes within me.

Dreaming of such stark realities makes me think,

I hope that was just a dream after all!

I dream in white,

When I breathe in peace.

Embraced and engulfed by serenity,

That caresses me with its gentle wings.

I sail on still breeze,

(You would wonder how, but I dreamt I did!)
And I find myself coming back to life,
With two suns during sunrise,

And I wish to myself,
I hope that was not just a dream after all!

I dream in green,

When green is the colour.

I dream of you and me,

I dream of us and them.

Wandering in rolling valleys

On a great day for freedom!

I dream of beginnings,

Giving birth to a smile.

Wishing as I walk the miles,

That it was the beginning of a dream after all!

But all my dreams have a hint of Pink,

The interpretation may be Freudian, but 'Floydian' are my dreams!
I’ve seen shining diamonds and great gigs in the sky,

I’ve seen pigs flying, while I am learning to fly!

I dream in black and white ,

And all things between,

Of what I like and dislike,

And what lies within.

“Any colour you like!”,I hear you call,

That’s what dreams are,after all!

Potpourri I

Ahh..! I can’t seem to focus on anything of late! “Helter Skelter” is the state of affairs in my mind and writing about something specific would be a forced attempt. But I do feel like rambling. So all I have is some sort of a literary, epistolary potpourri, made out of the several thoughts that seems to be whizzing by,in my mind.

The Unworthy Name: A classic case of “What’s in a name?”, in a warped sort of way though! To even think that the biggest corporate fraud in the country involves a company named SATYAM! What a travesty! Satyam is definitely no longer sundaram.With inflated profits, deflated debts, a staggering 7000 crore emerges out of several loopholes and while the cat gets away, the dog (PwC) does not bark! Disgraceful!Well, all because Raju was not a gentleman!

Voice in the Wilderness: Sir Cliff Richard has come “Up in the World” and has flown so high that he finds it imperative to slam The Beatles! Our old man here has not forgotten how The fab four displaced him, off the charts back in the 60s.So in his last attempt to be taken seriously as a rock star(Yes, you’ve read that right!),he calls some of the guitar solos by The Beatles “horrific”! Strangely, I can’t recall any of his songs having a distinctive guitar solo, let alone being good! Maybe he should just get married to a nice old lady (or man), stop living with a Roman Catholic Priest(For the love of God, why?) and learn to play the guitar!

Monkey Caps : Come winter and trust Bengalis to turn to our ancestors to protect us in this season of chills, mists and mellow fruitfulness. It’s the ultimate fashion statement, passed on from generation to generation; a fashion that is never out of fashion, embraced by all, irrespective of caste, creed, sex and age. In spite of donning layers of winter gears that would put an Eskimo to shame , without this essential bit of protection (that scares away the monkeys at the Zoo or Dakshineshwar Temples to the extent of refusing food), we are vulnerable to all that is bad and evil and yes, cold! So “flaunting”this queerest of all queer head-gears would never be considered a faux pas by us and no doubt The Monkey Cap has become a part of the quintessential Bengali! Though a reply to my chances of trying out this timeless antique would be “Over my dead body!”, I too , have developed a bizarre kind of fondness for this great social equalizer , for it is donned by the Rickshaw-walla and his obese passenger, grandfathers and new-born babies and sometimes (as hideous as it may seem) by men and women alike!

Un-enchanted: That is my one word review for the movie Enchanted, to put it in very mild terms. I am truly ashamed that I stayed up till 1 in the morning to watch the movie! But it was all for McDreamy! And alas! Not even the the man whose looks can launch a 1000 satellites, could save the movie from drowning! For one ,the movie was so rotten that it was beyond saving and again, he is too average an actor to be a saviour! With an inane fairy-tale minus the charm, an irritatingly optimistic heroine who breaks into songs in two shakes of a duck’s tail, cockroaches and rats cleaning up,a terribly out-of-place Susan Sarandon and pretty men,the movie coming to an end is a necessity if the victim(the audience) is to ever live happily ever after!

The Bridges of Madison County: What a painfully beautiful novel! Complex , profound, heart-rending, yet hopeful. And quite strangely all these adjectives describe, (to put it very bluntly) an extra-marital affair which not even for once, seems like adultery. With a lucid style and honesty of expression so aptly portrayed by the author, it is indeed a story I reluctantly finished and is sure to haunt me for a very long time. When Robert says those memorable lines “In a universe of ambiguity, this kind of certainty comes only once and never again, no matter how many lifetimes you live”, the cynic in me disappeared and I could not help but agree to what some might call a fatalistic statement.A book that made me shed many a tears and yet offered some smiling phases and certainly one that I’ll treasure! I always did find the whole concept of bridges rather romantic. :-)

And I love you so: Don Mclean does take my breath away! A poet, a singer and a guitarist of rare caliber ; I am truly enchanted by his music. Madonna should be sued for mutilating his music! McLean’s “Castles in the air” is such a beautiful composition ,with such an unfathomable depth ,that it has become my current favourite, replacing Vincent. I wonder why songs and artists like him are so hard to come by these days? I sometimes wish I was born in the 60s.What a wonderful era (save the bell-bottoms)of contradictions,cultural upheavals;almost a renaissance!Ah well,wishful thinking!

And thus ends the ramblings of a melancholy bore! Temporarily,until my thoughts are again in disarray :P

Of Human Bonds

Relationships. Indeed a dynamic concept. Often liberating, yet sometimes , limiting. Desirably deep, yet disappointingly superficial sometimes. Hopefully strong, yet “How fragile we are!” Draining in some respects, yet enriching, in others. Of disguised innocence and conspicuous sins, ancient values and modern sensibilities, conditional reflexes and unconditional emotions, actions with unequal, “un-opposite”, hence unpredictable reactions, relationship is an art I am yet to master, a science I am yet to decipher and a philosophy I am yet to assimilate.
Relationships to me are like a flowing rivulet. Forward flowing, sparkling and enchanting. One does encounter boulders, but eventually learns to go over and around them, such that the flow is unimpeded. Who knows, maybe boulders can be used as stepping-stones? However if the stream is muddy and sluggish, I believe, it is best to put that relationship aside. Chances are that the stream will dry up and one will be left standing in the dirt and filth. Here, stagnation amounts to death. That aside, staying afloat in this stream, despite of occasional turbulences and “bickering” down valleys, is one of the most joyful and fulfilling experiences in life ,“for men may come and men may go”, but this brook can go on forever.

The Unsung Heroine

She laughs and talks,
She talks and laughs,
And when there’s hardly a reason to laugh aloud,
She takes it upon herself to be the initiator in the crowd,
Often missing the fact,
That it is she who is being laughed about.

She never stays put,
After all, frivolity is “cute”.
She plays the game,
After all, “not compromising” would be lame!
And thus swaying right and left she makes her way,
To what she thinks is a glorious day.

She awaits trumpets greeting her,
To celebrate her “triumph” with alacrity,
It does not matter if the world has been scarred,
That is no excuse for her happiness to be marred.
“Been there, done that” she silently yells,
But how it was done, is not the tale she tells.
And as she looks down from her ivory tower,
She wonders why no accolades upon her, are showered.
The silence she interprets in her own presumptuous ways,
As the malice of sore losers en route to decay.
Never for once does it cross her mind,
That the silence might with deeper grief be entwined,
That the silence speaks of a dreaded find.

With her head in the cloud she can all but see,
That the world below has elsewhere to be,
It is not her that the world spins around,
Things to fret and feud are there, abound.
Winners and losers are all she sees,
In her narrow divisive mind of conjectural reverie.
But that winners can be failures and losers a success,
Is something that only, time upon her would press.
And thus,while the world is too sore to sing,
The unsung heroine sings to the glory of her being .

Blood and Tears

"You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins"

Was it a cryptic omen?I wonder now.Watching the movie "A Mighty Heart" a few days back,had left me with a nagging,disturbing feeling of apprehension,insecurity and sorrow.However,I was sure that it wasn't the movie only(though moving)and its specific subject.It was more like Lessing's "The Fifth Child",an impending doom,an unborn disaster being engendered within.It seemed to be like a certain eventuality,considering the way things are "progressing" for sometime now.
Now after 60 hours of Satan's reign over Mumbai,I wish I could assure myself with the belief that THIS was the eventuality,but it seems to me,the beginning of a prolonged nightmare.
No negotiations,no ransoms,no irrational demands for releasing jailed terrorists;what is chilling is to know that the foremost goal of these terrorists was to kill as many as they could till their last breath.These youth with phantoms and chimeras inhabiting their brain,were reported to be "remorseless and determined" in their "jihad".This they did,with messianic passion,shooting indiscriminately,holding hostages,killing them ,almost perfunctorily if they failed to serve their purpose.It fills me with repulsion to know that these monsters while making their way from one floor to the other (of Nariman House),while the NSG closed in on them,simply shot the helpless hostages,as their last cowardly act.They call themselves freedom fighters,attributing their actions to the name of "Allah".A two year old, orphaned on his birthday,gallant commandos and policemen shot to death,innocent civilians murdered just because they either moved or could not move too fast,this is the cause these "jihadis" died for.Yes,in death too,they remain dastards.

One of the terrible aftermath of this tragedy struck me while commuting to college.I heard a conversation between a group of students like me.When one asked who were responsible for these attacks,the answer came instantaneously,in chorus,"Who else?The Muslims!" This is probably one of the most dangerous effects of these acts of terrorism.Due to this undeniable common factor that unites almost all terrorists and acts of terrorism,it seems sadly natural that people would tend to generalize against the Muslims.One would argue that for all the pious claims oblivious pseudo-secularists make ,about this minority being on a backfoot socially and economically,with a huge band of aimless frustrated youth who are easily brain-washed to turn into miscreants, these problems plague other communities too,Hindus,Christians,Jews etc.How come almost all terrorists we see, seem to belong to this particular faith?While many of us,including me,would shirk away such theories and line of thought,one can't just deny this uncomfortable fact.I strongly believe that this factor should be analysed by social scientists and the like,to excavate the deepest underlying reasons behind it.The last thing one would want now,in this hour, when we should stand together as a country,is to have a new group of reluctant fundamentalists among the citizens,and the youth especially,for opportunist political groups to gleefully take advantage of the situation.
I think this incident has shaken most individual's trust in humans ,for afterall, what are humans without humanity ,the attribute that has been rampantly abused by these warmongers?If a man can stoop down to the deepest gorges of hatred and the nadir of barbarism,how can we claim that "God made man in his own image"?This Apocalypse is initiated,planned and executed by Man.Who are we going to trust if we cannot trust one of our kind?I guess,had H.G.Wells been alive,the War of the Worlds would not have been brought about by aliens wreaking havoc on the face of earth,but by these revolting spectres of inhumanity,bereft of even the dregs of compassion.I am so full of hatred for these cowards...

"And I hope that they die
And their death'll come soon
I will follow their casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while they're lowered
Down to their deathbed
And I'll stand o'er their grave
'Til I'm sure that they're dead."


Still,if we can divert our residual anger for those "..that never done nothing,but build to destroy" and those who play with our world like it's their little toy,to an intransigent desire to rise above this hatred(rather difficult) that completely engulfs me and I guess some of us now, with the strength of our mighty hearts,and not fall prey to petty communal differences and misunderstandings,stand as one,united country to root out this evil,these perpetrators of hinous crimes against humanity,these "Masters of War" , maybe ,just maybe,somewhere over a rainbow,a distant silver lining will emerge out of this very dark cloud of blood and tears.

Turning 20.

Here I am,an 'ex-teenager'.It has been about 6 days since I started my 'tenure' as a 20 year old...and for the first time,the words "year old" seems significant.

On the 26th,I was still a teenager,barely holding on.Then,"at the stroke of the midnight hour",a sudden deluge of phone-calls and text messages followed,from friends and strangers alike ,and it dawned on the groggy me,that I was indeed 20..!

Morning broke.I opened my eyes to see both Ma and Baba looking at me,with much affection,almost a lost-and-found look.I was confused.I could still be Daddy's Little Princess ,right?I hope age was no bar here..!I think he sensed that.So before I could doubt a second longer,he pinched my nose,and I was relieved..!Mom tried her best to get me out of bed,and I was assured that I was going to be pushed around,even though I was 20..!Ahhh....sweet relief..!

The weather was gloomy.It was pouring.My birthday coincided with the last day in college before vacations.I wanted to be there.The rain was a dampener.I was dreading that College Street had turned into the Great Bath.I couldn't force my friends to come over,just because I wanted them to.Yes,I sulked for a brief period on my 20th birthday(matured,eh?)And then came the sun,"doo-dah,doo-dah",not in the shape of the great ball of fire in the sky,but the news that my friends were braving the rain to go to college.I was in 7th heaven.So I found myself in college,all dressed-up,which led to certain people asking me whether I had a date!?!I am 20,and yet,I like being the cynosure of all eyes on my birthday...!Hence,I thoroughly enjoyed being there in college.

Next stop was at Mainland China with my parents.I did what I do best,EAT.With food which could be a gourmet's delight,celtic music,and cute waiters(20 year olds,do get to call guys cute I hope!),nothing could have gone wrong.Even Dad falling off to sleep while the food was being served couldn't ruin the day...!His snoring too,acquired a comical glow...!

Evening brought along with it several guests,(a few unwanted ones too)presents,and a birthday cake.It was a warm gathering and all of a sudden I felt grateful for 20 years of love and affection that I had been blessed with.A stately dinner ended my celebrations for the day.

It had been a great day.My best friend called.My good friends made me feel special.Strangers were overtly nice to me.I got wonderful presents.I felt loved .Yes,I still wondered about whether a certain someone remembered that it was my birthday and felt torn between two eventualities as I do,on his.But I wasn't going to let that "steal away my thunder"!

Later,as I laid in bed,contemplating ,I couldn't help but feel a tad sad.I would never be a teenager again.That I would no longer qualify as a 'kid' ,an address that would have previously irked me,now pained me.That I would be expected to act as a matured adult,scared me.All of a sudden I felt claustrophobic.I needed air.I went and stood in the balcony.

And as always,it was darkness that helped me see.I saw the stars,how they shone.It was not a static,permanent beam of light.It quivered,glimmered,varied in intensity.Each spark different from the other but none, lesser in beauty.And there it was,the answer to all my doubts,confusions and sadness.Indeed my life was like a sky,and each age would bring with it ,its own charm,its specialities,its freedoms,that would make me look forward to the next step,its restraints,that would make me look fondly at the years gone by.I understood the look in my parents' eyes.While the little girl was now a fond memory,the woman now was their proud reality.And,so it was with me.

It has been a wholesome 20 years.There has been clouds blocking the stars,yet unhappiness too has attained a glow.There has been clear skies and moonlit nights and the light has shone through.If there has been heart-aches,failures and unpleasantness,there has been love and friendship,triumphs and joy.I am happy to be 20 years old for they have undoubtedly been the time of my life,and in no way,'hollow years'.All in all,I convinced myself,without any difficulty whatsoever, that it had indeed been a very happy birthday. :-)

Writer's note :- I chose to write this a few days after my birthday ,to ensure that my feelings then ,did have some constancy,and were not merely brought about by rationalization.I can safely say now,the feeling prevails,and will prevail.:-)