ami speaking here.....

Mujhe Chalte Jaana Hain

2016-01-03T23:47:00.001+05:30

"Musafir Hoon Yaaron" - the song of a man claiming himself to be a nomad in the journey of life. A song which had the lyrics of Gulzar, music of RD Burman and the rendition of Kishore Kumar - probably one of the best compositions from this golden triplet, if not the all time best !!

I don't remember when was the first time I heard this song, but all I can recollect is - it was probably in Chitrahaar on Doordarshan that I first saw the video of the song. The time was somewhere in the early nineties when I was growing up as a kid. Even though I liked the tune very much, I was afraid to sing it in front of my family members, assuming that Hindi songs are forbidden fruits for kids. Having said that, even with this fear, I would still keep humming the song when I was all by myself, specially when having bath or all alone on the terrace watching the sunset.

As a kid, it was just the tune which had me mesmerized. But as I grew older and probably, a bit wiser the lyrics of the song became more meaningful to me and unfurled its true beauty. Time and again, whenever I had been requested to perform a song, somehow by default this would be the song which I had sang. Every person can actually relate himself to a particular song, at any point of time - that's what I feel personally. This is a song which I have always felt very close to my heart, something with which I have been able to define myself.

It is all about the simplicity of a man enjoying the journey of life, wherein his fellow travelers are day & night. His trip though albeit an uneventful one has landed him with friends like the first rays of the sun and the last hues of the sunset. The very spirit of chugging along the rhythm of life is the true essence of this song and aptly it says we have to move on - "Mujhe Chalte Jana Hain"

Arth - The Meaning

2012-07-26T17:38:00.001+05:30

It was a lazy Friday evening, I had just finished my dinner and was getting bored to see people seeking reality in the virtual world of Facebook. Just to break free from the boredom, I was surfing through Youtube in search of a Hindi movie of the 70's. In the suggestion links on the left hand side of the page, I came across a movie - "Arth".The summary of the movie intrigued me and I decided to make it a part of my Friday night celebration. In a nutshell the storyline stood something like this -
"A film-maker who is having an extra-marital affair with an actress decides to leave his wife. Arth is the story of this women's search for her identity." (description courtesy Youtube)

It was a sitting of around two and half hours, for the movie to get over. The clock showed it to be around 2.30 am in the morning. Sleep had actually left me by the time I was done watching the movie. The movie had left a lingering effect on my mind. It had just etched out a string of thoughts which seemed to be so rational and unjustified at the same time.

Infidelity - the theme of the movie, is something which had been explored through various creative mediums. So in a way, it is a well known topic across the creative world. But why at all does a married person fall for someone other than his spouse? Is infidelity the hallmark of an unsuccessful marriage? The quest for something more, something more valuable, much more aligned to the seeker's thoughts and likes might be termed as a possible reason for this digression. But it still remains a mystery, which has its causes deep rooted into the confines of the human brain.

The immediate reaction of the human mind is to cling to the losing person or thing as tightly as possible. Possibly, a frantic effort to save his own belonged one, for one last time. But probably, the tide of the unknown had swept away the person to a distant world. Like the dialog from a typical commercial Hindi movie - "Woh to kis aur ki ho chuka". But jokes apart it is just the mere existence of two individuals under the same roof. The string of bondage has been snapped, the shell of emotions have been broken. How hard you try, it is not to be regained, it cannot be brought back again.

One who loses the relation just remains a mere spectator to this moment of pain and anguish. Loneliness and pathos become her friends for those moments. "What should I do? Should I ask him, what's my mistake? Can't we make a new start?" As those myriads of thoughts pass by her mind, slowly and gradually her hope falls into a deep trough. It's just darkness out there, a forlorn journey which she has to take one her own.

As her life gradually trudges along, she realises that life has just offered her a new direction, a new horizon to look up to. "It's a new day, it's a new start" - She moves along as a newer, stronger person. She finds a different meaning of life, a life of independence and strength. But somehow, this newer self has lost the faith in the term called love, or has she found a new "Arth" of love?

Aisi Azaadi Aur Kahan....

2012-03-26T21:50:00.000+05:30

Pepsi had launched an advertisement commemorating the "glorious" 50 years of Indian independence. The catch line of the advertisement said - "Azaadi Dil Ki". Today, even after celebrating 64 years of Indian independence, the question still keeps haunting the average Indian - what is independence? Just being able to select someone from your motherland as your leader through a "democratic" process and being "ruled" by him, is that independence is all about?

Freedom of mind and speech still eludes us, what we really is "Azaadi Dil Ki" and not some mere gimmicks in the form of growth of technology and improvement of GDP. The bare fact is the country still does not have the bare necessities - food, health, shelter and education for the majority. A nation where the poverty line is being labeled as the daily spending capacity of INR 29 by an individual, a land where thousands of crores of scam being reported almost daily, the Army General is being lured with bribe of INR 14 crore - the significance of achieving independence through the sacrifice of thousands of lives seems to be just a mockery. Day in and day out, a land is being exploited by its own country men at the helm of power and we the "Aam Aadmi" just remain a mere spectator and give a blank stare. At most we discuss, how pathetic is the condition of the nation and the end of it all, all we conclude is "Chalta Hain....". Perhaps seeing the nation getting exploited everyday has become a part of our regular experience.

Every time a voice is raised against these issues, it is curtailed down by the men in power, irrespective of the political colour. Or in some cases, the voices raising the protest lose their focus and become the source of rising TRP for the media. Added to this, is the fact in a nation of 110 crores of population and counting, basic education seems to be a distant dream. So it becomes an easy game for the "bhaiyya, dada, behenji, didi, madamji, sirjee" of Indian politics to churn out easy vote banks.

An uprising as shown in the movie Rang De Basanti....is the need of the hour to speak up and act....RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. Probaly then only, we can say - "Aisi Azaadi Aur Kahaan"

The Unfathomable

2012-03-25T16:30:00.001+05:30

Every time I've tried to understand you, I had remained clueless. My frantic efforts to find out the true you had landed in failures. In spite of having seen so many facets of you, I failed to figure out the real you.And to add to my woes, everyday had revealed a newer you.

Just like the sea, with its vastness and beauty, you had attracted me towards you every moment. Staring at you is just like looking at the sun just as it wakes up in the morning, remains active throughout the day and finally bids adieu in the evening. But as I draw closer towards you, you seem to transform into something completely unknown.

But the closer I came to you, I realised this is not the picture of you I had painted. Perhaps, being closer to you creates a veil which I could not remove even after my repetitive attempts. You seem to move away from me time and again creating a magnetic attraction towards you.

You seem to be the oasis who has deserted the desert of my life.....

The butterfly in the jar

2012-03-25T16:30:00.000+05:30

I lay there confined in that room. For how long? - well, I myself don't know. But the very moment I woke up, I found myself confined within walls. All around me there were just concrete walls. Only a small hole at the topmost corner of the room was the sole source of light and air. Having been in this room since time unknown, I now realised why I did not pass out.

Sitting in that seclusion, I really didn't know what to do, how to come out of it. Somehow, my brain seemed to have stopped functioning......with every passing moment I seemed to have been grasped by an ever-growing numbness. The very point of my existence seemed to be a wonder to me at that moment. A single individual cut out from the rest of the world, I thought to myself how do survive in this seclusion? Not a single pathway to break free the shackles of confinement, nor a ray of hope for any external help.

My wings of freedom suddenly seem to have been dented. My forever quest for flying through the air, gliding across the wind have been curtailed. Right now, I lay here in this dilapidated condition, hoping against hope for some help to come to bring me out of this terrible condition. And if does not happen, then let me grace my fate with a last fling of happiness, reliving those moments of bliss and enjoyment I had enjoyed prior to this confinement. Herein I close my eyes and end my quest for life. O death come and bless me with the light of eternal peace.

The Unseen Dream

2011-10-07T13:44:00.003+05:30

Thousand miles afar I still dare to dream

To see those moments of bliss coming back again

Embracing me like a cushion of soft petals

Giving me a comfort of love and laughter

Amidst this incompleteness in the complete world

But alas my friend it still remains a dream

Time and again I crave for it to be a reality

In this desert of forlornness it is the sole drop of water

Its presence is the only hope of survival

But time flows and so do it

Yet I dare to dream the unseen

The Strange Friend

2011-06-21T21:09:00.007+05:30

My first memory of an electronic equipment is that of a Santosh music system. It was perhaps my dad’s collection, which was there in our house even before I was born. It was a very simple one having just the capabilities of playing audio cassettes and also functioning as a radio. In comparison to today’s models it was an elementary one, but going by the way how technology was in the 1980’s it was indeed a remarkable item, that too in a middle class family like ours.

With flow of time the list of electronic equipment in our household increased – starting from a Philips two-in-one, followed by the Sony three-in-one and finally the whiz kid of electronics – the computer finally landed in our home. All these items had their own charm, their own USPs, but it was something else which I admired the most. It was the HEADPHONE – an apparently small element compared to all these hi-fi members of the electronics family, but in terms of utility this item was perhaps far ahead of these big shots.

The headphone was like a friend, whose presence was much sought after by me. The very moment I put on the headphone, I could feel a magic – a magic that took me away to a forlorn distant land, where I was the sole inhabitant. Once I reached that island, there were just three of us – me, my headphone and music. Those were moments of solitude, but were equally blissful, giving me the opportunity to submerge myself into my own world of oblivion. The resonance of smoothening music and the solitude of the moment combined to give me moments of creativity, opportunities wherein I can see, feel and realise things through a different perspective.

Apart from the moments of creativity, my dear friend also gave me opportunities to escape the verbal volleys of my parents, for any mischief or prank I had been up to. They kept on hurling their beamers of allegations and warnings at me from the next room, while I just put on the headphone and lost into a world of my own. My attraction towards commercials was the result of this prank, thanks to Motorola, courtesy their advertisement, I got a chance to make escapades under such tormenting situations.

But perhaps the best moment when I enjoyed being with my buddy was in moments of pain and anguish, moments when I would run away from the entire world. Those were the times, when this friend of mine gave me the solace, the soothing in the form of some classics of Kishore, Rafi which acted as the balm in those painful moments. Indeed strange, how such a trivial object became such a significant part of my life perhaps unknowingly.

Life has moved on and so has technology. IPod, IPad all have come and made their presence felt in the global arena of electronic devices. But for me, the headphone has still remained an irreplaceable part of my life. It has played its part to perfection and still gives its company in every possible moment. Thank you my friend !!

Clouds of Seclusion

2011-06-05T16:33:00.000+05:30

He was sitting at the desk of his office...watching the distant clouds looming dark over the horizon...though the entire neighbourhood was extremely elated about the coming of the clouds...he was not. In spite of the clouds bringing in a gush of hope for the arrival of the rains amidst this torrid summer, he was not at all bothered by the change of the weather outside. Somehow, he felt like the weather outside was just a mere reflection of his inner world right now.

The cloud of seclusion have engulfed his world...dragging him away from everything he cherished....bringing him into a world of materialism....there was but loneliness as his sole companion. Every moment he spent, he could distinctly hear the hiss of forlornness in his ears. This life had given him many a thing, but had taken away a lot from him. All his gain was materialistic articles.....but his loss was much more...he had lost the comfort of his home, the love of his parents, the enjoyment with his sibling, the fun, frolic and laughter with friends...the list is endless.

Somehow, the dark clouds seem to perfectly reflect his situation....just as the clouds were floating there in the entire void of the sky, so was he living a life of seclusion. In his quest of solitude, life had gifted him forlornness. His search for success had resulted in a life of pains and pangs. Was this what he had cherished for in his life? Did he not wish to lead an enriched life, a life where peace and stability would be the prime members? But where was he now?

The rains have started pouring in....perhaps they might bring some news of relief..some hope of freedom from this world of seclusion...paving the way for the return of laughter in his life....only time will tell....so, "Let it be..."

North from East - First View

2011-05-31T13:55:00.000+05:30

One of my friends had posted this comment comparing Delhi and Kolkata - " Calcutta and Delhi do not really compare. Delhi is the girl you run into at a club, and take back to her place, and hope you didn't give away your number. Calcutta, on the other hand, is the sort of girl you want to settle down and raise a kid with."

When I came down to NCR from Kolkata, frankly for the first time I was indeed nervous. Right from my stepping into the domestic terminal of Delhi, everything seemed to be so fast paced. You hardly get time even to see the things happening around you in the airport. Moreover, I was bugged with the thought how shall I be able to collect my huge luggage from the rotating belt. However, I finally managed to figure out where to head for to collect my luggage and eventually managed to get hold of the same.The next important task - locating the cab driver who would take me to the hotel booked by my company. I called him up and tried to figure out this position among the hundreds who had flocked in front of the domestic terminal to receive their dear ones or even new employees like me. After around fifteen minutes of frantic search, I finally managed to locate him and he was "smart" enough to keep the company display board to himself, without flashing it properly so that it is distinctly visible. And the end result of this - I had bear the roaming charges over my mobile for his idiosyncrasy.

Next, he pushed trolley to the parking lot and was putting in my baggage into the rear of the car, when suddenly a 14 year old kid came from no where and helped him out in putting in the baggage. Having put everything into place, the kid suddenly asked me to pay him something. Initially, I was very angry and reluctant to shed out any money, but I gave him a 10 rupee note and winked at myself and said - "Welcome to Delhi, sirjee" ;)

Finally the journey started from New Delhi airport to Gurgaon, my destination for the next one year at least. My cab driver, was a funny fellow besides being a chatter box.Throughout the journey to the hotel, he kept on blabbering about hoards of things - Gurgaon, its people, the roads, etc. One thing he was very curious was about the pay packet at Kolkata and the life style there. In fact, he even mentally calculated the sort of savings he would be able to make if he shifted to Kolkata for his work.

My first impression of the city as I made my way from the Indira Gandhi Terminal to my hotel in Gurgaon, was that this city did not have a soul. The rugged roads, the rashly driven cars, albeit highly expensive ones (including Audis, BMWs), the absence of greenery - all combined to give me an impression, it is indeed a place where people don't really have a DIL, it is driven just by DEAL.

The entire stretch of the journey was filled up with loads of hotels, restaurants and liquor shops. Once the cab entered proper Gurgaon, the roads were "adorned" with public transportation in the form of "tuk-tuk"s - just like the auto rickshaws of Kolkata. The biggest difference being these tuk-tuks were bigger in size and consequently being loaded with lot many people. Somehow with a little modification, these "fully loaded" vehicles would be ideal for Fevicol advertisements considering the way the passengers are dumped into the vehicle and also the manner the roads through which these tuk-tuks make their journey.

The smoothly carved out NH-8, the expensive cars adoring the roads and the huge shopping malls and commercial buildings, the city honestly did not have anything else that could appeal to me. Not that any of the aforementioned items attracted me, but yet somehow these something which made me feel there's something noteworthy about Gurgaon.

Honestly speaking, I was skeptical about my stay in this new city, but was hell bent on one thing - I'll face anything and everything that comes my way during my stay here and enjoy it to the fullest !!

Brand Robi

2011-05-10T12:10:00.000+05:30

                                                             Jogot chene tomaye bole bishwokobi
                                                             Juger hawaye palte aaj tumi Brand Robi
                                                             Tomar dewa oshonkhyo goddo poddo gaan
                                                             Duniya jure sohosro loker jibikar upadan
                                                             Diyecho moder bishwo sobhaye ujjwal singhason
                                                             Nobel churir modhey diye korechi mora tar e sombhason
                                                             Boier taker gondi periye aaj Archies eo tomaye mele
                                                             Valentine sadhur moto tumio globalisation pele
                                                             Bishwa jure gorbo kori vebe nijeke bangali
                                                             Adote mora antosharsunno kangali
                                                             Tomaye niye proti niyoto cholche koto kaaj
                                                             Maap korben gurudeb, besitai fanka awaj
                                                             Tobuo aajo ase jaye pochise boishakh
                                                             Oi ektidiner robi chorchaye bangali beche thak

Adiue !!

2011-04-07T20:34:00.012+05:30

With my little experience of attending a few sessions by personality development facilitators, I had learnt a big lesson from a small incident - the very moment you change your seat in a room, your complete view of the room changes and it helps in thinking from a different perspective about the room. I too got a different perspective of life, when I decided to move to Gurgaon as a part of enhancing my career prospects. Somehow, I had always been very closely knitted to my city - the well traversed roads, the safe and secure shadow of parents, the delicacies in terms of kebabs, sweets, etc. have been strong reasons to make me hold back to the city. Also, a stable and comfortable work life here made a little lethargic, so that I can sit back and enjoy my life.

However, I finally decided enough is enough; it is time to come out of this shell and lead a different life. A life which would make sit and view a different perspective of this journey. My initial reaction was of excitement, fun and frolic. But just before arriving there was a slight twist in the tale - I became a kid, crying and asking my parents to feed me the dinner. The young man who had been strong enough for the last few days was finally crumbling. It was really tough for me to absorb the fact that I would be away from my family. The final night, I'll be staying at my place with my family - moments of emotions, loads of memories all were rushing into my mind. I tried my best to make the night not to linger away but in the end it was just a futile attempt.

Finally, it was morning - time to gear up and get ready to brace for the inevitable. The normal routine of arranging things required for the journey and stay were there. Followed by which, the final frontier - dressing up and having breakfast, perhaps for the last time in the next few months to come. Somehow, John Denver was playing "Leaving on a jetplane" at the back of my mind. Just prior to boarding the cab, I hugged my comrade in arms for eternity - younger brother - and embraced him with perhaps the most possible force. How I wished, the force was strong enough to keep us together forver.

The traveller was out on his journey, to savour life to the fullest, in his own way - a trip where he would be both the tourist and also the guide to the path he would follow. But whatever, be the road ahead, it were the moments spent in this city, in this atmosphere under the eyes of his parents, the adoring bonding with his brother that had made him strong enough to take up this path with grace and try and enjoy it to the full brim. It was time to bid farewell to those beautiful people, the ever smiling place, the warmth and love of friends - it was time to bid adiue. Goodbye Kolkata !!

Remembrance

2011-02-22T14:22:00.001+05:30

How many times have you thought about your city? How many times have you looked back and been amused by the beauty of the place you live in? Honestly speaking, I did not ever take time just to look around my own city. All I felt about it was nothing but loathe - for the pollution, the corruption, the monotonous flow of life here. Just like any other resident of Kolkata, I have taken it for granted that this city is not going to change, however hard we try.

But this feeling of desperation and disgust took an altogether different turn, when it finally dawned upon me that I would have to move out of this place owing to professional commitments. The first moment, this feeling started setting in I could feel a pain, an unspoken pang which was gradually becoming a part of life, my existence and might be a part of soul too. The very elements which had become a part of my disgust towards this city, were in fact the factors which had kept me clinging on to it. It's just that I had not been able to realise this truth.

Everything I see around myself right now seems to be an integral part of my growing up. The same dirty roads which I had to take day in and day out, the pollution, the traffic congestion - all seemed to have been fundamental instruments in making me what I am today. The tolerance level that I have gained have been inculcated through my stay in this city, the readiness to accept anything and everything, in spite loads of trouble. Truly, we do not have many world class facilities in Kolkata, we don't even have proper footpaths for pedestrians to walk; basic amenities like health, education, etc are lacking like anything as compared to any other metro.But it has something, which is so very unique to this city - Love.

Indeed the element of love and bonding that is present in this city makes it a really beautiful place to be. The warmth and affection that becomes part of one's life during his stay here is indeed very hard to find in any other place. Even if one comes to this city from some other part of the country or the world he or she will never feel too much home sick, because of this element. Perhaps because of the climate, the soil structure of this region of the country, the common people here are very soft and prefer peaceful coexistence to fighting for the right cause.Many a times, one might see something really unlawful happening, just like a female police constable being physically abused by members of a political party for obstructing their vehicle and letting pass an ambulance. But no one seems to be bothered as long as things do not hamper their daily routine of work.

The feeling of brotherhood seems to take up a weird shape here, wherein one can find the peaceful coexistence of a temple and a mosque side by side in one of the busier routes of the city at Anwarshah Crossing. Time and again, it seems this bonding keeps this apparently slow moving city ticking, its heart beats for its every citizen, throwing out its arms to all and sundry, asking them to melt in its arms of "dillogical" relations.

Definitely Maybe A Walk to Remember

2011-01-25T17:32:00.002+05:30

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon.....though an off day for me, I didn't feel like staying back home. The mild afternoon sun of the Kolkata winter acted as a catalyst, prompting me to take a short trip to carry out some shopping for myself. With the advent of plush shopping malls all, the shopping trend of Kolkatans has taken a new turn - they have become more brand conscious, more cosmopolitan in terms of their shopping trends. Unfortunately, I too could not keep myself off from being a part of this bandwagon.

However, on that particular day, just after leaving home, I felt like carrying out shopping at a different location, instead of the normal plush malls. I chose to go to a place, which I used to frequent in my college days to buy my engineering books - Sudder Street. It is an area in Central Kolkata, which has still retained its old character - the dirty roads, the street urchins, the hawker selling his items capturing a large part of the pedestrian footpath - it has still remained a true hallmark of the true Kolkata.

For reaching Sudder Street, I always preferred taking the Metro Railways as it not only saved a lot of traveling time, but it also gave me an opportunity to feast my eyes upon the myriads of colourful happenings. I departed at Park Street metro station and after walking for a few minutes landed just out in the open in the fresh air of Jawaharlal Nehru Road. And just before my eyes it was there - the magical footpath in front of the Indian Museum.

This area of central Kolkata is perhaps where you can afford to get anything and everything under the sun. Ranging from old coins, posters, caps, toys, designer bangles - you can catch hold of anything a common man desires to possess - just name it. and the best part of it is - you can bargain and afford to get it at a reasonable price. Perhaps, this is one shopping location, where inflation does not seem to be a regular visitor. A shopping arena where the "aam aadmi" can still dream of fulfilling his dreams of "marketing"

I meandered through this overtly congested footpath with stalls lining up on both sides and customers in the form of the typical lower middle class of Kolkata to even foreign visitors. In front of a toy shop, I found a little kid of around 5 years, hanging from his father's arm, trying to pursue him to buy him a toygun. The shop keeper too making the best use of this opportunity, was constantly nagging the individual to buy his son the gift. It's amazing what perseverance can do - the boy finally got what he wanted courtesy his incessant pestering.

"Madam, only 100 rupees, just 2 dollars", a voice on the right cried out. A little startled I looked around to find a peddler shouting aloud to two foreign ladies about two straw hats. A smiled a little to amusement - globalization has reached such heights that using dollars instead of rupees seemed to be a better option to sell your products. But unfortunately, this particular trick did not pay off.

As I mad my way through the long queue in front of the Indian Museum, the Hritik Roshans and Chulbul Pandeys, gave me their smiles and charismatic postures from the various hanging posters along the railings of the museum. Just as I was about to take a left turn to enter Sudder Street, a book from the various strewn in front of the peddler chanced upon my eyes. It was - P.S. I love You by Cecelia Ahern - a book which I had tried to get hold of, but never wanted to buy an original one, considering it an unworthy investment. With an intention of buying the book, I asked the price, to which I was replied - only 130 rupees. 130 was not too bad a price to pay for a second hand copy of the book, but somehow deep within I had imbibed the habit of bargaining from one of my close friends, who in fact was a master at the act of bargaining. With a lot of hue and cry, the bargain finally fetched me the book at 60 rupees only. I was but elated to have improved my negotiation skills, deep within it really felt good.

Savoring my eyes on the delicacies in the form of kulchas, chole batura, chinese and giving my olfactory the charming smell of these items, I continued my journey towards my favourite bookshop. Now this part of the journey was altogether different one. If the previous part was about the colours in the shops and items, this was all about variety in humans. Sudder Street is a popular place for tourists coming from abroad who intend to live in a low budget in this city during their visit. Also, owing to its demographic location and also being well connected with the rest part of the city, this is a quite preferred among foreign visitors.

Trudging along the lane of Sudder Street, my vision captured myriads of images - foreigners from all across the globe had landed up in this wee little area. Dressed in perhaps, the weirdest of attire they flocked this dingy street filled with taxis and private cars honking, the dirty street urchin playing truants. The various hotels or motels, as you can rightly call them provide the resting place at the cheapest possible prices and also cater to all "bare necessities"of these tourists. Though apparently only hotels, these places also serve as the den for various sorts of dark activities that popular Hindi movies of the 80's used to portray.

Not all buildings in this area are mere hotels, some even are restaurants wherein one can find bands charting out popular English numbers in the evening. That is the time, when this street filled with din and bustle during the daytime, takes off its veil and reveals its true character. The money, the drinks, the flesh - all start pouring in just as the lights of the city gradually move towards going off to bed.

Coming back to my journey, just as I completed the entire stretch of the street and took the first left turn, I was greeted with a popular shoe store of Kolkata and just next to that was my shopping stop - Piccadilly Book Store. On entering, I was greeted by the ever smiling face of Mr. Mullick. Purchasing my books, I took the same route as before to board Metro on my journey back home.

The magic of this street remains in the fact that, in spite of the world around changing so fast, somehow this particular area of the city remains unaltered and unadulterated. Being able to retain its true image through ages have been the hallmark of this area. In spite of the dark shadows that engulf this region, once light starts fading, it has its won mystic beauty which enthralls me time and again and that's perhaps every time I walk down this lane I feel like telling myself "Definitely Maybe A Walk to Remember"

The Un-Social Animal

2011-01-13T15:27:00.000+05:30

"Man is a social animal" - since time immemorial, this saying has been part of human life. Time and again, we have believed that a human being cannot survive without the help and support of another one. The mere presence of another individual is an absolute necessary for the existence of a human being. But how far true is this thought? Is this statement really relevant for all walks of life?

Personally speaking, I feel creativity cannot flourish in a sociable environment. It requires an ambiance of seclusion to reach the pinnacle. The presence of people around you, their constant chit-chatting, the various aspects of mundane life - bringing in the grocery, doing the laundry, taking a shower, etc. are all but hindrances to the unveiling of creativity. For the unfurling of something new, the emergence of new ideas the presence of solitude is an important if not absolute necessity.

Also, for a focused approach towards a particular task it is important for an individual to refrain from the common intermingling with people. Many a times being a one-track persona is the need of the hour for some critical tasks, like carrying out a medical operation, or designing a micro-chip or checking the balance sheet of a financial account. The mere presence of noise in the forms of discussions among people or some music being played around, creates digression, which is just not acceptable.

Somehow, the Indian society has a tendency of labeling an individual unsocial if he tends to remain in his own world and prefers not to mingle with his neighbours or people in the vicinity quite often. It is like a thumb rule to remain in constant touch with your neighbours in your locality, with your colleagues in your professional arena, with your friends in place of education - to be labeled as a sociable individual. Putting up a plastic smile under all circumstances is a must to be tagged as a "amicable" person.

It is indeed true that socializing is an important aspect of survival, but it is not an absolute mandatory. One needs to be a part of a conglomeration of people, wherein one can share ideas, ask for some help in case of an emergency. But the absence of such an association cannot and should not be taken as a parameter to identify an individual as unsocial.

Go Slow

2010-12-24T20:45:00.000+05:30

April 2010 would always be special for me. It was in this month that something really special happened to me - I joined Toastmasters, SaltLake ToastMasters Club to be precise. Indeed it was a great moment, because ever since my schooldays I had a keen interest in public speaking, but never got a proper platform to hone my skills in this domain. So when I got an opportunity to involve in a club meant for improving one's public speaking and leadership skills, i was but filled with ecstacy.

During the course of my attending the sessions at this club, I came to know about various nitty-gritties of speaking, with special emphasis on the areas of common mistakes like grammatical errors, usage of crutch words, presence of aahs, umms in the course of the speech. Among these errors, the one which had bugged me personally to a large extent is the presence of aahs and umms in my speech.

While trying to ponder as to why such problems occur and what could be the solution to this problem, I figured out the root cause of this problem -aahs and umms become part of one's speech, mainly when the individual is at a loss of words or ideas. And this loss of idea or words occur mainly because of the disparity in the speed of thought process or recollection of ideas with the speaking speed of an individual. Also, the nervousness or lack of confidence, can lead to the unwanted guest -"Aahs and Umms"- in the birthday party of the speech.

The solution to this problem is a very simple one - "GO SLOW". No, I don't mean to go at the speed of a snail, but yes, of course, don't rush with your words. Try to balance, between the speed of your speaking and your thought process or recollection of words. Initially, this will be really tough, you have to curb down on your normal speed. But with time, things will surely start looking better and in fact, "Aahs" and "Umms" will be cursing you for not allowing them to be a part of your speech family !!

The Endless Reverberation

2010-11-21T01:49:00.001+05:30

Movies are perhaps one of the better possible ways to unwind myself. And truly speaking, good quality Bengali movies are indeed a rare treat to my mind. These are the ones that make me sit back and think; these are the ones which give me reasons strong enough to understand why I love being a Bong. In the past few months, I had seen three such movies, which had influenced me to a great extent. Though each of them dealt with three different topics, somehow to me they all seemed to be like pearls strung in the same necklace. They are nothing but continuity of the same facet of life – relations.

Every individual dreams of achieving success; success may be defined in terms of materialistic gain or a creative pursuit or might even be marrying a dream girl. Whatever be the form of success, one cannot expect to achieve success, at one shot. It comes with its own companions – hard work, perseverance and pains. For most of us, once we achieve this goal, life suddenly changes – it becomes a completely new world for us. With accolades being showered, rising up to new heights, one tends to forget his own values, his roots. This in a nutshell was a part of the message being sent through the first member of this trilogy – “Autograph”. Also, one major mistake that perhaps we all tend to do, in our pursuit of achieving materialistic goal, is ignoring our relations. The quest for success creates a veil that hinders our view of our relations. A haughty, complacent animal, in his quest for the pinnacle ready to go any extreme- that is what humans a have a tendency to become in the sole search for the zenith of success. What is the worth of success if one does not have friends or family around him to share it, to cherish those moments of fulfillment? Even after the pinnacle is reached one remains a solitary individual, seeking for love to quench his thirst derived out of success.

While we tend to be alone at the top, but this solitude might happen to one even when he is surrounded by near and dear ones. You need that special someone with whom you can bond, with whom you can share those subtle moments. It can be anyone, does not have to be restricted only to someone from family, or your friend circle. Relations of such subtlety cannot be defined as per the conventional norms of the society; such relations are indeed priceless. Such a relation was articulated to perfection in the second member of the trilogy – “Anuranan” – the reverberation. A quest for the true peace, for the real beauty of nature, of understanding the true meaning of relations made two individuals of opposite genders come close to each other. It was the bondage of aesthetic values which had strung them together. But somehow our “sanctimonious” society could not accept such an “unconventional” relation and eventually tarnished it in the name of “infidelity”. Yet life trudged along and those blissful moments seemed to be just memories, engraved in the relics of the mind. Yet at times, as one looks back he can hear the reverberations of those very moments, those silent long hours when so much was said without uttering a single word.

But at times, one really needs to utter those words, yet they remain within one’s self and are never spoken. In our daily lives there are multiple occasions when we needed to say so much and yet we could not for some reason or the other. Especially in case of relations, it is important to be equivocal to make things work out. In today’s cyber world, it is indeed very easy to get hooked up to someone via some social networking site or internet chatting service, but for relation to be a reality, you cannot carry it on through the virtual world. One has to get it into the real world, face it and channelize things properly in the right direction. What happens if your love remains confined to the virtual world and one fine day the person whom you love is no more. This tragedy was beautifully portrayed in the last part of the trilogy – “Antaheen” – the endless wait. You keep on waiting for time immemorial for him or her to turn up and respond to your calls in the virtual world. So please speak up when it is the right time to do so. But at times, even after saying those words, things do not fall into place and you have no other choice but to move apart. But can you truly move apart from in your mental world, you remain clubbed together, close to each other’s soul hoping for things to take a turn for the better, even if in reality you know that cannot happen anymore. We land up taking that one small step – Endless wait.

For me the three movies strung together a chord of unison in terms of displaying the complete facets of relations – gaining, losing, feeling, reverberating and waiting for that magic. Relations are something which we always tend to misunderstand. But they are perhaps the greatest gifts to be cherished and wanted for to lead a happy and balanced life. The golden trio of “Autograph”, “Anuranan” and “Antaheen” have been a revelation for me in understanding this simple yet truly valuable gift of life. These creative pieces of work still keep on reverberating in my mind and will keep on doing so....perhaps endlessly !!

Transition

2010-11-16T17:58:00.000+05:30

Solitude is perhaps the best moments in the life of an individual. It not only helps him to introspect, to ponder over his actions from past and present and act accordingly for his future, but also helps him to bring out a newer individual from within. It is solitude, that brings out the best elements of creativity within an individual. Sometimes, the moments of solitude helps one to look into a problem from a different perspective.

Under most circumstances, all these effects of solitude lead to an important phase in the life of an individual - TRANSITION - a phase that makes or breaks an individual. It reflects those moments in which an individual gradually transforms as a human being, may be for something better or may be worse. These are the monents of change which pave the way for a newer perspective in a man's life. Sometimes, these transitions happen at the spark of a certain incident or may happen in the process of achieving a certain goal. Whatever be the cause, transition is indeed an integral and important aspect in any individual's life for this betterment and upliftment.

Now should we let transition happen at all times? NO, many a times it so happens that a certain transitional phase might turn out to be devastating in the life of an individual. Transitions can be and should be controlled. Else, it might lead to a path, one cannot even imagine in one's wildest of dreams. Somehow, most of us knowingly or unknowingly, pass through the various phases of transition right from our childhood.The moments of pain, the hours of anguish, the innumerable accounts of frustration all lead up to one road - the one and only transition. So my friend, learn to identify this all important phase and channelize it in the right direction to see yourself rising up to greater heights !!

Natobar and I

2010-11-14T02:53:00.000+05:30

After a pretty long time, I did something which I enjoy doing at to cherish my moments of blissful solitude – went for a movie alone. It was a Bengali slapstick comedy – “Natobar Not out”. It is the story of a young Bengali boy – Natobar Gupta, who dreams of making it big as a poet someday and continues in this pursuit of achieving his goal. The film is all about the entire struggle he faces in making his dream become a reality, courtesy some magic, which I shall not unravel here. In the end he lands up being another commoner, toiling day in and day out in his father’s factory and not a poet.

Even though slated to be a comic relief, the movie made me sit back and think on few things. Firstly, how important is it for one to understand his dreams. As per the story though the central character had a dream of being recognised as a poet, his efforts, realistically speaking were not up to the mark that one needs to be. He was keener on being recognised as a poet than on concentrating delivering a truly remarkable piece of work as a poet. For any individual, in any walk of life, this principle holds true. Generally there is an inherent tendency among humans to be more interested on getting quickly recognised for their achievements, rather that concentrating on the work at hand. This approach needs to be changed - a minor yet very important change that we all need to incorporate in ourselves for the betterment of both work and appraisal for the same.

At one juncture in the movie, Natobar is reprimanded by his father saying that in a middle class family like theirs’ one cannot dream of establishing himself as a poet, one has to use manual labour as the only option of earning his livelihood. Now, this was something which I could not accept. Yes, earning livelihood is indeed very important for any individual, be it a mere middle class person or a business tycoon. But that should not and cannot be a hindrance towards pursuing one’s creative works. If you have something creative in yourself and you want to use that particular talent for earning your livelihood, then just go for it and do it, instead of caring for what the world says.

Natobar cherishes his brief stint as a poet courtesy some magic work. But just as the magic got over he too became a mere mortal, devoid of any poetic skills. From the cinematic point of view, this is fine. But in real life we all have that magic in us only, just that we fail to realise this and bring it out in the open. We need that extra push, be it from within or from someone outside to realise this magical fact. It‘s just one spark, one moment which can transform our lives, we just need to explore ourselves properly to find that catalyst.

The best thing about the movie it spurred in me a strong urge to restart my writing again. Thanks Natobar, you are really magical :) !!

Straight from the heart

2010-08-22T00:22:00.000+05:30

Relations have always been the most interesting and intriguing topic for me. Whenever, I had tried to blabber about something in my blog, somehow it was relations, which came up as the first and most spontaneous topic. Speaking about relations, I do want to specify about the type of relations a male and a female gets into in the course of their life. It is something, which I feel I have been attracted to because of various reasons, some of which I'm trying to explain below:

¢    The most interesting part of relations is the people involved. Just like the myriads of colours on the palette, the human beings involved in each relation are so very different. The differences among individuals in terms of their outlook towards life, incidents, etc add the necessary hues to a relation. Similarity is something which makes a relation, perhaps smooth, but it fails to add the necessary "spice" to a relation. So when the Sharukh-Rani starrer "Chalte Chalte" came with the tagline - "Opposites Attract", it indeed meant about the variation that comes into play when two different minded individuals get attracted and ultimately bond together

¢    Relations help to open the "Pandora's Box" of human emotions. However emotionless, straight-headed, practical an individual might be, he or she has to give vent to her emotions once she gets into a relation. Until and unless you are able to express your emotions to your counterpart, it really does not become a relation. Relations thus help one to become a more extrovert person, atleast in his own personal domain

¢    Speaking about Indians, they are perhaps one of the better nations of people, when it comes to arguing. Even a Nobel laureate like Amartya Sen could not held himself back from utilising this "talent" of his fellow countrymen for commercial benefit. Relations are perhaps the best practice tools for enhancement and development of one's argumentative skills. Though unfortunately, the male partner seldom gets a chance to emerge winner in such an argument, since ultimately it is the victory of female lachrymal glands over the rational outlook of the male.

¢    "How to improve your patience? " - For the nomination for the authorship for such a book, any individual who has been or is still in a relation is perhaps the best person. After all, the loads of hours he or she has had to spend waiting either in a mall, or at the movie hall or just for a casual meet is simply huge.

¢    Relations teach you how to kill your time, in case you do the unknowingly knowing thing of arriving early or even on time for your partner. You might be told -"learn to accept me as I am". But trust me, it is indeed one of the greatest learning lessons.

Here, I leave it to you my dear readers to decide for yourself if it is still a good idea to select a topic like "relations" for the immense blabbering that I continue doing in my blogposts.

The Lady in Rains

2010-08-15T11:43:00.001+05:30

It was raining torrentially and a lady was there standing out in the rains. Neither was she able to evade it nor was she making any attempt to get herself out of this drenching situation. Somehow, the rains have become an integral part of her life since time immemorial. Rains have always been a strong factor in revealing both her beauty and ugliness. In her early days, she was indeed very beautiful; though even today she's labeled beautiful. But with time, her beauty has receded - because of the various burdens she had had to bear through all the years of her life.

Indeed she looks very ugly, whenever the monsoon comes pouring on her. The various "black spots" of her skin come into the open, in the form of huge potholes. The rainwater finds a great place for its long term survival in those "age marks" of her. Unfortunately none of the brands which deal with skincare present in the market today are capable of removing these marks and bring back her age old beauty. However, there are a group of people known as the board of councilors, headed by a leader called the Mayor, who, if they want can provide a solution to this dermatological problem of hers. But unfortunately, these "responsible" individuals are more interested in completing their "personal" responsibilities in the form of securing the future of their next generations, through their "cooperation" and "coordination" with the various skin care product vendors called the "contractors".

Like a bunch of ants running helter-skelter once their den catches fire, the common man residing in her has to run places to shelter himself from the rain. To add to his woes, the basic mode of communication - public transport seems to suddenly evaporate from the roads. Every monsoon, the buses plying on the heart of the lady seem to be a replica of the ceiling of an old building with people hanging from them like bats, though with greater risk of losing their lives and with much more discomfort.

Beyond all these ugliness of her, the lady still looks beautiful in the rains. The monsoon washes away all the dust and filth from her body, she looks rejuvenated and fresh. Her green face - Maidan - closely resembles the green pastures of Switzerland after the monsoon wash. The smiling faces of the street urchins playing in the water logged streets or earning a few extra bucks by pushing the stranded vehicles are also elements of beauty of this damsel.

Year after year, the monsoon comes and goes, but her image still remains the same, or may be it deteriorates. But somehow, her guardians - the Chief Minister, the Mayor - no one seems to be bothered that their daughter is gradually slipping into doom. However, in the last election she has been promised a complete makeover from 2011 onwards. She still lives in hope of that promise being fulfilled and she regaining her old beauty. After all, hope is the only element that gives her the strength to survive this battle of life and yet remain what the world knows as "Kolkata".

When Silence Speaks............

2010-08-03T02:01:00.001+05:30

"You say it best
When you say
Nothing at all"

It was around 2 in the morning, when I was listening to this song by Ronan Keating. Somehow, this single line represents some of the most memorable moments of our lives. Moments - which are like magic, moments which made up our lives - moments which might be very insignificant ones, but when delved deep into them, do speak about their significance in our lives.

Isn't it amazing how we can land up saying so much, when we really say nothing at all? Apparently we might curse ourselves, for not being able to speak up what we wanted to; those words, which you had kept in a little dark corner of your heart, those very precious words. But somehow, they don't pop up when you want them to. It's not just about telling your dear ones how much you love them, how very special they are - it's all about sharing those little moments of togetherness, minutes of happiness, which are so very priceless. Deep within, we might think, we have failed to say those special words, but trust me friends, your dear ones will always understand what you want to say. Because, as the saying goes - "A picture is worth thousand words"; our silence speaks up our words more clearly and perhaps even more clearly when we "say nothing at all".

With love ........

2010-07-22T23:59:00.002+05:30

Dear Nitin,

By the time you get this letter, it will be three days since the rock sailed through our window. Just as it landed with a thud on the table and broke the glass model of the Taj Mahal, I rushed from my study to check out what had happened. Abbu, Ammi and Bhaijan too came rushing in only to see the model broken into pieces and glass strewn all over the floor. There were cries of "Har Har Mahadev" as a bunch of Hindu hooligans carried on mass rampage in our streets. Peeping through the broken window, I was shocked to see Arjun, the boy who used to supply us milk- even a few days back, beating up Rehmat chacha with a stick. This Godhra incident has left us - the common innocent Muslims in very bad shape.We are being tormented by the same Hindus, who had been friends with us once. None of us, is able to leave the house. It is through Baba Mustafa, that we are getting some food supply. It seems the protesters have become aware of this and are already keeping a watch on him. Ammi is terrified like anything. She cries all day long, even fainting at times. Though Bhaijan and I are constantly trying to put up a brave face in this crisis of curfew and religious furor, I simply don't know for how long we shall be able to sustain.

You remember Ali, the boy with bright eyes and a never ending smile on his face, living next to us? He had gone out to buy some medicines for his ailing Abba last night. This morning he was found dead, just in front of his house. He had been brutally beaten up and his body chopped into pieces.

I simply don't know as to why this is happening. Why are we,the common people being tormented like this? It seems the government too is not interested in putting an end to this. Suddenly the people, the place which I had seen since my childhood - everything seems to be so very unknown. My residential place has become a death cauldron for me.

Is religion, the only thing that separates you and me? Is it because you are a Hindu and I am a Muslim, that we cannot coexist peacefully? Mentally, I'm broken and tormented. I write this out to know knowing that somewhere there is a Hindu who still understands a Muslim. I never wanted to speak about this difference of religion between us, but today at this hour of crisis, I cannot stop myself from blurting this out. Hope this letter will finally reach you through Baba Mustafa. By the way, how's Chacha and Chachi? Offer them my Khuda Hafeez. Hope everything's fine at your end. Wishing for a quick end to this wanton destyruction.

Your friend forver,

Imtiaz.

Ekla....

2010-07-14T10:20:00.001+05:30

Onek peyeo hariye jawa
Tari modhe khunje pawa
Moner koner achin kono pakhi
Jiboner niyom chaiche j dite fanki
Atka pore geche ek ondho golir sese
Jethaye sudhu kosto r kanna ese mese
Proti muhurte khunje se alo
Aandhar j r lagche na tar valo
Hatre beraye mukti pother disha
Jontronai aaj ek matro nesha
Ashaye ashaye bandhche se buk
Ei aandhar pother sese hoyto asbe sukh

Sedin......

2010-06-22T10:24:00.002+05:30

Sedin tomar ekushe pa prothom pora sari
Sedin tumi prothom hole juboti theke nari
Sedin tomar ghono khopaye chotto laal golap
Sedin tomaye prothom dekha sedine prothom alap
Sedin chilo akash jure ghono megher ghota
Sedin kothao chilo na je ektu robichhota
Sedin chilo tomar amar prothom badal din
Sedinder smriti aajo mone roye geche omolin

Mon.....

2010-06-21T14:04:00.000+05:30

Aaj akasher motoi mon kore ache bhar
Moner kone jomeche ondhokar
Swapnogulo pari diche onno kono deshe
Megher moto orao chaiche kothao jete bhese
Niyomer berajale bandha pore geche mon
Chaiche bhangte sob bondhon ajke protiti khon
Bhenge porche somosto kichu aaj charpase
Jibon jeno bandte chaiche mon k nagpase
Dure kono achin desher khunji thikana
Pouchoto parbo kina nei to seta jana