Promoting E R KI- My brother's maiden cinematic venture

The above two posters are from my brother's new feature film. And before you presume it to be some big shot affair, let me assure you- he and his equally crazy friends are a bunch of average college going kids in Calcutta. But yes, amazingly talented they are. they call themselves "madly bangalis" and they are..in every true sense of the term.
they didn't even have proper budget or editing mechanism in place to finish the project. But their enthusiasm is infectious. so much so, that a drab old person like me couldn't resist but run to see them shoot their maiden venture on shoestring budget on a lively afternoon in june.
They don't know how the movie will get a proper theatrical release....they plan on releasing it on cd's this diwali may be, in case, their tight academic schedules permit everything to go according to the plan. Please encourage the young blood..spread the word around in the bengali speaking junta across home and abroad....these people don't have the glitz and glam of showbiz associated with them as of now, but I can assure you....you will not be disappointed. Young, fresh and talented to the hilt, look out for the script by my brother. He is a prolific writer with unparalleled wit. And if you want to take a walk back memory lane..across the nostalgia street..when friendship meant "Lyadh, Halu, missed call..charminar and lengi" (I haven't read the script..he didn't let me :P...I just have an idea seeing the young bunch of my brother, tathagata and tridibesh) then do watch out for E R KI.

Watch this space for more. And please spread the word... nothing works like word of mouth for small but promising ventures like this one.

Unoshyar, bishorgo ar Chandrobindoo.

I was first introduced to the kind of music Chandrobindoo makes, in class IX (9). I still remember vividly how the girls of our class gave mickey and rahul the surprised look while they started singing- ta na na nana na and duniya dot com from their album 'Cha'. It was just before the puja vacation in school. I suppose it was either Shukla aunty's class(she used to make special requests- "gao to")or the break when they started singing the popular Malgudi days tune, of course with a 'twist'. Mickey, the funny man of our class later clarified it was chandrobindoo and I was almost five years too late sinc etheir first appearance on the bangla music map.
But then again, I was quick to catch up and oh! boy, how much I loved them! Simply speaking, to any ardent follower of contemporary bangla music they (Chandril, Upal and Anindya) do not need any introduction. For me they are the ones who set the standard for sense of humour, wit and subtlety. The range of music they cover- be it from 'Bhindeshi Taara' (original version-not the antaheen one) to 'Amra bangali jati' or for that matter 'gabgubagub' or 'tomake shonabo joy goshaayi' to 'mon' or 'sei hawa'- it's magical and hillarious at the same time. They are different from the regular 'band' picture we get- three guys with overgrown hair and beard head banging with the guitar and another two sitting on the drums and the keyboard (no offences meant!!). But they look like the average bong guys next door with chandril's sparkling eyes giving a hint of dushtumi going on his mind. Also, I have a very soft corner for anindya's beard apart from his voice and that 'fichel hashi'. But it's their lyrics and soft, melodious music which attracts one to them the most. Long after you are done listening to their songs, the chuckle still remains. They smell of Calcutta, innocent love, nostalgia, lush green of the days gone by and what not. What more can you expect after hearing a song whose lyrics goes like- "marx, freud er kache jeo na, brain ey jhilmil legey jaabe" or for that nostalgia evoking first love fetish that you get after hearing- "shudhu snaner jol ey likhehci daknaam...arey na shona...eka boka thakbo na".
And many more....I sometimes pity poeple who don't understand bangla. Primarily for two reasons- one, they can't read the original robi thakur or sorotbabu or shankar (trust me, his chowringhee has a very good english translation, but nothing compares to the original) and secondly, they can't understand chandrobindoo's songs :P.
So here's to the creators of immortal songs like- "tobu tumi amar cpm, tumi amar atm, tumi amar series prem er sesh ta", "dada didi haat dhorey shiriteyi boshey porey", "aami to chayiboyi- e shohorey tumi nemey esho", "o amar modhyobitto bhiru prem gopon kalshitey", "muchhe dao jolchhap, ashbe na mon kharap...thik 5tar por".....the one's which never fail to uplift my mood. Cheers to them and their music! The best thing to happen to bangla music after Suman Chattopadhyay. (ok! now the fossils fans can shout....torko na holey bangali hoy naki? torko diyei to bojha jaay- bangla gaan ajo bechey ache guru)

this is for the ones who love their music just like moi...am sure there are many.....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_idD2SWBqGc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFt_aer7epg&feature=fvw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U5EJvSqxciQ&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZifgKwiqKV0&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=futedPK6054&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=84IOMi17Ens
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MiCj8hjiEtY&feature=fvw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v5utZcl_ORM&feature=related

Just a random collection- no particular preferences and also, no copyright infringement, if any, is intended. Onek dushtumi r gaan bad porlo..couldn't locate the videos..abar onek 'mon kemon' kora gaan o nei llishti tai...mon kharap koro na tai boley...."bondhu tomay e gaan shonabo bikelbelay.....arekbaar jodi tomader doley nao khela"

P.S- Just before I left home for NALSAR, I wasn't carrying a laptop or a computer, but I made sure I copied the entire Chandrobindoo collection on a CD (i didn't even have a flash drive then) from my didibhai's computer. The one stays with me till date with additions now and then.

Pujo and perceptions

The title sounds like an academic paper but I have nothing to footnote about other than what Prof. Dhanda would have termed as aboriginal research. Or may be if we can consider adda on ashatmi night while pandal hopping as an authentic source for mapping the changing face of the bengali milieu most evident during what else but durga pujo, then why not?
Frankly speaking, I am overjoyed. 'Happy' will be an understatement to convey my feelings at this point of time. The reason? Isn't it quite obvious? A bong writing a blogpost about pujo and being overjoyed after she is done with sending most of her "Shubho Bijoya" sms es- yes! I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to run back home this time. To tell the truth for me pujo and home are synonymous. I don't understand the concept of probashi pujos even after staying almost five years away from home. I missed a few in between and only a bong far away from home can understand what it feels like- those four days. Trust me- you feel cheated! no less.
But this post is not about cribbing and what you miss in probashi pujos- the feel and beat of it. Nope! even with two seminar paper submissions due in some four days and end semester exams around the corner- I can still bet, right now am rejuvenated and replenished. You know how unplanned trips work for some- same happened with me this time. I booked my tickets at the eleventh hour, it cost me a bomb but then again who cares? I got to be home. And once home, it meant choc a bloc plans with old friends, few who have kept in touch and been there since primary school. Friends who are for real and with whom it's always unadulterated fun. Thank you everyone for being there and to tell you the truth, this was one of my best pujos ever. My facebook album already bears testimony to that. It may be because, it was after so long, may be it is because we are slowly but gradually getting used to the ugly side of life- bitching, backbiting et. al. And that obviously includes the unnecessary interest that some people take in my life. of course I feel like a celeb when they. I have absolutely no issues with that.

Ok! I didn't digress. This post is supposed to be somewhat close to heart rant types. I don't know if the bits and pieces here are relevant but this pujo made me realise what it is like having fun. And by fun I don't mean the usual dancing on DJ night like crazy or for that matter the usual crazy stuff like playing hide and seek, water fights etc. that we keep on doing round the year in hostel or NALSAR- I mean the old world stuff. May be it has been long enough, but I rediscovered the pleasure of pandal hopping or fighting with Dactar babu over where to go- Selimpur/Jodhpur Park belt or Bosepukur at around 9 in the night in fornt of Gariahat more. It was just like those 9-10 days in Nava Nalanda when Saibal used to take out a scale an measure up the bench while dividing it into three parts....and while me and aparajita laughed over his idiosyncrasies while sitting in the next bench, he would turn around and protest. Just like he did this time- "uff!! tui rakhto ingreji". Or for that matter the one hour hide and seek game he playe dinfront of shibmondir while we stage managed....uff!!! puro pagol. or for that matter while mickey announced- "tora saibal er theke ekta chlormint o aday kor, ami toder khawabo"...those pleasures of Rupees four bus rides and the squabble over the cab fare. Good ole' days. That reminds me, this pujo also made me and aparajita realise that our midas touch (the great pairing I mean) remian intact.....those were the days when we used to bakraofy people for that alukabli treta, this year ankur volunteered while we coaxed him to treat us at a upmarket South Calcutta restaurant on Ashtami. Or those silly moments remembered with our man eater while cabbing it back home when Apo and me were busy taking his trip. Thank you Deblin for those VIP passes and Agni for the guest appearance. Thank you everyone. And Saibal- even if we make fun of everything you do, you hold our group together. Thank you for everything and organinsing our meets.
And before I forget to mention, the jhari standards have gone down drastically...or may be we are growing too old, but I didn't enjoy Maddox that much this year..went for some half an hour on Ashtami, but the crowd was so so. The highlight obviously was spotting an old geeky classmate having papri chaat with his girlfriend. That and his spiked hair tempted us to go and take his trip...but obviously he looked at us, spotted us and gave a glance of non recognition. I also realised that my para pujo has changed....lots of new faces...no jhaari type remains (sigh!) and of course none of my friends- masume or pamela were there. But then again Ashtami morning is meant for para pujo- anjali and bhog. Nothing changes that or for that matter the polite conversations we have every year in my posh south Calcutta neighbourhood every year. This year the congratulatory messages were an added attraction, more so because of the stiff upper lip kind of brand name that I got in may be. Duly savoured :D And nobomi of course was meant for old stuff - get together of our brother and sister gang with Tups joining us this time but Mam didibhai sadly missing from the scene. And our 'chiroporichito' jadavpur eating out place was the preferred destination this year too.
Baba didn't do his famous dhunuchi naach this year because of the death of many a patrons of our parar pujo.  His silent way of commemorating the lost souls. Though the festivities continued, his gesture was duly appreciated from the sensible quarters. Doshomi made me cry, but then again which bong at heart doesn't cry on Doshomi. I had to come back. But then again no worries...Ashche bochhor abar hobe...or may be I have to save my leaves for a very special occasion that I am really looking forward to.

P.S.- I must say, Bengali women have become more open to choices across the world while dressing up. While Laal paar taant or tusshar remains my favourite on Ashtami and nothing beats that, I was surprised to spot women sporting halter necks with their saris. But please, next time you wear that, just bother to gym a bit and lose some weight. Also, another new entrant was the dress- floral, cocktail or classic evening wear, trust bong women to bring the supposed pub hopping gear or the classy party wear range to maddox, obviously sometimes with disastrous consequences. But at least they tried. Shame on you men- you stuck around with your trousers and the only experimentation was in the form of coloured dhuti- keu dhakka parer dhuti try koro next year, bujhley??

How to spot the proverbial bong in the crowd-10 of the most hackneyed and easiest ways

So here I am, the proverbial nostalgic bong who loves to travel and see places but craves for home during durga pujo, to guide you through the 10 easiest steps to identify a bong. And that obviously includes the bong at heart.....you know, 'being bong is a state of mind'!

1. Does he look dreamy eyed, bespectacled, nerdy and gives you a deep look? Does she have round eyes- the ones she speaks through, thick black hair and flawless skin? do they look chubby, rotund with tons of baby fat that refuses to go? Chances are that you are hitting on a bong.

2. Does he write poetry? Does she inspire you to write some? No matter what happens to those fallen trees (the papers eventually find their way to the trash can) they are essentially bong favourites.

3. Does he smoke? The Charminar? the gold flake? Does he know the best places to find weed.....Is he possessed with the soul of GB Shaw, Marquez, Octavio Paz or someone closer home like Sunil Gangopadhyay after two shots of cheap liquor? Yes, of course :)

4. Do they know their Beer and "Bhodka" too well? Oh! and even if you replace the high end foreign varieties with options like Bangla and Mahua they will still sing "robindroshongeet"....yes! yes! who else it can be?

5. Do they behave like snobs while treating people who don't know who Che Guevara was or who have never heard of Suman and Beatles with a smirk that can destroy the world? Ah!

6. Do they claim to be writers, theatre people, meaningful cinema people, art, craft....blah, blah, blah? Oh! in practice they are engineers, lawyers, research scholars, doctors and stuff? Hmmm......

7. A bunch of them cannot sit without arguing/debating or as they call meaningful discussion or Adda. Well the topics may range from the Economic recession, oil crisis, J&K problem, Obama, recent Manmohan-Sonia tension, Whether Ram was actually born in Ayodhya, Satyajit Ray, Singur and Nano......ask any of them and you have a ready solution? Bang on!

8. Do they prefer dressing up in a 'Punjabi' for particular social events or for that matter the red border cotton sari with a big red bindi.....This one is a cakewalk.

9. Do they reminisce often about good old days aka- bandh holidays, childhood durga pujo, school, first love, untapped poetry talent, Calcutta, Victoria Memorial, gangar ghat and idle days- You seriously want any more hints?

10. Last but of course not the least- they know about any god damn cuisine on this planet while swearing by their ilish mach and ready to kill for Calcutta's or CR Park's phuchka? The perfect foodie out there for whom religious festivals mean another gateway to good food while their counterparts from North can't believe they have non-veg during Navaratri- That's what you call the making of the perfect bong theory.

P.S. I neither do smoke nor drink. Kind of detest them. Five years of hostel life also could not change that. I love to party and dance with my friends, but only with my non alcoholic concoction of blue lagoon (yes! I make sure they make it that ways :P). But I am a true bong too..who swears by her Dakshinapon phuchka. 

Muhurto...ebong amra.

বর্ষ পূর্তির মনখারাপ নাকি কয়েকটা সাজানো মুহুর্তের কোলাজ

কি একটা গান আছে না "মুহুর্ত বলুক"?

সেই এক মাঝবয়সী ভদ্রলোক?

নিরেট পাগল নাকি গোছানো সংসারী 

এক্সেল শিটের কোন দ্রাঘিমাংশে তোমার গুপ্তকুঠুরি?

আসলে এ সবি চর্বিতচর্বন

সেই কোন বিকেলের এক পাথরকুচি ফুলের গন্ধমাখা আমি 

কি যেন বলতে "মুহুর্ত গুলোই সব"

অভিমানের আগমনীর সুর তাই আমার কাছে কেটে যায় বার বার

আঁচটা লাগে এখনও

যদি ভাব এ এক পাগলামি ভুল ভাববে হয়ত

একটা নিস্তেজ বিকেলের সূর্যাস্ত মানেই কি নিষ্ঠুর অন্ধকার?

তুমি কি বলতে জানিনা,  

মুহুর্তগুলোর অধিকারে বলতে পারি আমি বলতাম স্নিগ্ধতা...

The art of pissing off people- how to undo?

Why am I so good at pissing people off? Why do I always need to speak my mind? Argh! not that I hate being sugary sweet, but that doesn't come naturally to me. But some how, after all these years of 'experience' I  feel that being fake is a virtue.
But the case (or rather cases) in question does not even require me to be fake, just to be a little sane. I had once almost lost a dear friend because of my habit of being outspoken. It took me time and patience to understand that just because I hated his girlfriend did not imply that he will stop dating her or for that matter our friendship will take a toll. Thank god! he knew me well and he eventually replied back to the sorry mail I sent him. See! I am not that bad too. I write rants on my blog and send you cute notes in case I feel sorry. At least I know how to acknowledge my mistake *gives a humble smile*

But then again, this time the person in question is not even someone whom I can send a cute note to or for that matter confront him/her in the dining table or hostel and force him or her to talk to me until and unless he/she laughs and says "maatey samajh gaye hum, bohot hua". I can be the biggest yawn machine and bak bak queen at the same time. But then again, that's how my friends know me and in case am silent for fifteen minutes, they make sure am ok. Happened once. My silence for two days made them ask me stuff like "Paush, chal tujhe ice cream khilatey hain" :P
And I digress! I talk so much. But the point is how do I say sorry or atleast make an effort to bring back the situation prior to this stuff happened in place. Well nothing in particular happened, but I suppose I took too many liberties as I do with friends, which I feel I shouldn't have and then somewhere was rude. Don't know, am not feeling good about it. Nothing affects my mood for long, but this one is....an uneasy feeling. For someone I hardly know, that's quite unthinkable... guess! this goes with my habit of abhorring the thought of not being able to talk to someone properly or that there is a misunderstanding somewhere. Don't we all like to set the creases right?
Only in this case I don't even know what will work? Ice cream, leg pulling, music, poetry, jhogra or bong mishti? any ideas?

25 random things.

This is about 25 random things, facts, habits or goals about you which nobody is quite aware of or even if they are, there is no harm in repeating them :P. It is originally a facebook tag, a note actually where I had been tagged long back. I was supposed to pass it on. But for reasons unknown to me, I didn't. I was going through some of the notes that I had been tagged into and bumped into this one. Thought of doing this as a blogpost, more so because I have been sounding all serious and stuff nowadays..haven't done something random for long on my blog. so here it goes. And I don't tag anybody in particular, steal as you wish. After all, it's always great to know about you my dear friend. So here it goes

1. My father had Tagore all over his mind while naming me Paushali, but my teachers, friends, colleagues always had a tough time pronouncing/remembering/spelling my name. So I have been called Panchali, Poshla, Poshmashali/Kaushali- everything....yes! beat that. closer ones have settled for Posh/Pau. The fact remains that I have never quite forgotten or forgiven whatever they have done to my name and wait for a chance to retaliate.

2. I am a hopeless romantic at heart and keep falling in and out of love often. Yes! that's quite true. Shekhar from Parineeta was literally my first crush and then I moved on to Amit Ray. Looking back, I detest both of them. But my longest crush had been on my maths teacher, a neighbourhood dada whom I fell for hook line and sinker. Years later when we had become good friends and stuff, we both had a hearty laugh over this.  But mind you, when his finace told me "so you are paushali. have heard a lot about you."- that was a true embarrassing moment *blush*

3. Thinking of love, I had once imagined a guy as my dream man who grew up to be like this- Posts his bodybuilding pictures on Orkut, still uses Orkut, once wrote me a scrap like- "hello sweetiez, wad r u upto?" Needless to say I hated myslef and my choices at particular points of time.

4. But I still believe in Mr. Right...the kind I will be head over heels in love. Yes! I still wait for him to sweep me out of my feet. Or for that matter sing "Hoyto tomari jonyo..." or "tomaake chaayi" for me while expressing his love. Gangar ghat, sun soaked winter evening at Victoria- what more does a woman want? ;-)

5. Aamir Khan was my favourite actor once. And I still like watching all those films of his with Juhi Chawla. Love their chemistry. But then SRK happened to me. I chanced upon Baazigar. The rest is history.

6. Nothing works for me like mush does. I have now lost count of the times I have seen DDLJ, QSQT, HAHK, KKHH. Same goes for Hollywood stuff. Give me 27 Dresses anyday and I will be happy. And before you judge me, Did I mention I once did a jurisprudence project on Dev D? or for that matter I had to drop out at the last moment while doing a comparative analysis between Charulata and Noshtoneer for a writeup since the original text was not available online.

7. I love watching people, studying their minds. In fact, I have seen that the more I am ignored, the more am I interested.

8. I am a true blue Capricorn and after watching Dabangg am so happy to share my birthday with the one and only Salman Khan.

9. My Baba is my role model. He had been so since my childhood. I always wanted to be like him. My passion for law was nurtured in NALSAR but it all began with him.

10. I take it as a huge compliment if anybody tells me that I walk or talk like my Baba.

11. I love Jane Austen. Same with Shorot Chattujjey, Jhumpa Lahiri, Suchitra Bhattacharya, Bani Basu and Vikram Seth, but Robi Thakur is my guiding star. I keep on re discovering him now and again.

12. I love my books. They are scattered all over the place in my room, across Calcutta and Hyderabad, but deep down I have a soft corner for all of them. The second thing on my list may be a piece of antique jewellery I treasure.

13. That reminds me, I have a thing for everything old. A senior in Law School once told me, you are born 30 years too late. Yes! I romanticise Calcutta of 1960's and 70's.

14. I love Soumitra. One of the reasons I so want to go back in time. I want that parar rock er adda to come back live when he steps up and says- "gurumoshayi toley chollen naki?"

15. Needless to say am a huge fan of Kishore Kumar, Asha Bhonsle, Lata Mageshkar, Manna De and likes. My friends in hostel often complain- "tum yeh kya sunti rehti ho?" :P that doesn't stop me from playing "munni badnaam huyi" at full volume though :P

16. I can't draw. That's one thing I will rue all my life. My sister is a beautiful painter, but I can't draw to save my life. My mom tried to instill that skill in me for long but she gave up ultimately.

17. My dad is my favourite but with age I have realised that my mom had a great influence on me. The way she had instilled all those values of "maniye guchiye newa" "sobaike niye eksathe thaka" in the rebel inside me- hats off to her.

18. I consider my sister as my little kid. She is nine years younger than me. I boss around her quite a bit but ultimately get beaten up in the process. she is also the more mature one. I am still the one who learns form her mistakes.

19. I love taking trips. Ask Shreya. I am the prankstar of my group. There are numerous instances of me passing chits and embarrassing people.

20. I love wearing saris. I have a tough time coping with the odd glances that middle aged, trying to be hep aunties give me when I declare my love for saris- too bad, they just missed the most amazing piece of clothing ever.

21. In case I want to be reborn.....I will like to be reborn as an Indian bengali woman. Five years in law school, interactions with people across the country and world- no body respects woman like bengalis do.

22. Also I love matchmaking. Needless to say the success rate is very good.

23. I miss school. Those days of Class VIII and IX in Nava Nalanda or for that matter those XI XII days in South Point.....seriously "those were the days"

24. I use the exit button silently many times for people I don't like in my life. Either I make them see the point or I leave-silently offcourse.

25. Last but not the least, law school introduced me to the pleasures of cooking and I truly believe that it has therapeutic effects. So in case you lost a moot, didn't do well in your surprises- Cook!

Forgotten and unsung.

Note: This is another angry citizen post. Those looking for porn and other related stuff, kindly avoid. It's disgusting when google analytics shows up the list of words people were searching for and landed on my blog which particularly has no connection to it whatsoever.

We are a nation which loves to crib. Yes, I am counting you- the overworked software guy who has made two onsite visits which added to the purse and the waistline. You- the overpaid and overworked hot shot elite institute graduate who sits in the comforts of his/her air conditioned office, works on holidays, makes foreign trips with family for holidays, have event managers planning out his son's birthday party. You- the normal BPO/KPO guy. You- the supposed academic who could not resist the lucrative foreign offer and crossed the Atlantic leaving the pittance paid out here to fill the coffers of some undeserving brute. And you- the elitist and luckiest of the lot, the babus who have access to all the power and position that this country boasts of.
We all crib about something, sometime or the other. We crib about the extended hours at office, the coffee vending machine not working, the non approval of an extension for a project deadline, the pittance being paid for supposed research, the non availability of holidays, good food, great clothes, shows, bags...blah, blah, blah..the list goes on. Be rest assured I belong to all the categories mentioned above in some way or the other. and I still crib.

I had gone out for some work with a friend of mine last week. While returning to this campus some 30 kilometres away from the city, the bus needs to cross the Secunderabad army cantonment area. We saw a bunch of young men, almost our age or may be younger practising their evening drill in drizzling rain, the one that had become the source of our discontent for past few days. My friend and I generally struck up a conversation about how the army men are one of the most poorly paid people in the country. It was a superficial discussion but somehow the headlines regarding asking out the army for every possible disaster management in the country has caught my attention since then.

The morning TOI print edition carried a piece about the army now being called to salvage the messy CWG preparations by building up a footbridge in record time through their emergency techniques. This will be in place of the grand overbridge that collapsed whose contract must have been doled out by Mr. Suresh Kalmadi and Co. in 'severe' respect for taxpayer's money. Oh! the best part was this would be done in a fraction of the cost the original bridge had cost (and would have cost in case it survived the games), atleast that's what a proud PWD official says.
I am in no mood to talk about the loofest (borrowed from Bhagat) called the CWG. But there is one thing that needs attention here.. why are we so insensitive to the needs of the people on whom we depend for basic survival issues??? We dpn't raise their salaries. We put them in BEST buses after they save a horrified city and it's even more horrified air kissing class after 26/11 and send them away like cattle while the chief minister visits with his convoy and a film  director in tow. Waah!
We can fill in the coffers of these corrupt politicians and officials (gill, dikshit, bhanot and the great kalmadi included) and not raise a voice about where did all our money go- that's fine, but we can atleast talk and think about people who guard our borders day in and day out so that we can plan our exclusive party well and secured. Does National pride have any bigger carriers than them?? what do we give back to their families apart form that Tiranga and the gun salute?? Do we have any better social security measures in place.
I am not the angry citizen speaking here, it is we who should demand the change, just like we demand their presence and arrival to save us from that national calamity in form of flood, earthquake or communal riots. We don't even get to know if they crib. even if they do, there is no HR manager to look into their demands and order a pay hike. right?

To tell the truth, you me and everyone enjoy our air conditioned comfort. who doesn't? Only that we can spare a thought about our folks fighting it out really hard to make us comfortable. You have anything in mind? Do share.

Halt.

"Bhalobeshey sokhi nibhritey jotoney aamar naam ti likho/ tomar moner mondirey...."

That he is omniscient is a long forgone conclusion which nobody doubts....but that he brings me closer to the feeling I call love everytime I listen to this immortal creation of his is something amazing. Melancholy is not about grief. It's about being with your self.

So does he mention love or the relationship worthy sorts in this verse?

or for that matter, "Aamar bhindeshi tara..eka ratrei aakashey...ami payina chnutey tomay...amar ekla lagey bhari.."

I know the jump from him to Chandrobindoo was sudden...but quite evident. They make my day.....or for that matter help me cope with melancholy. *Fyanch Fyanch* (Join the broken heart's club- In case you are reminded of your first crush or that cute guy in JU you refused just because you thought he was just a friend. Uff! ....or was it the rat race...the hallowed portals of that law school you cherished??)

FYI- He has a girlfriend now whom he overwhelmingly adores. Not that am jealous but somehow the world would have been a lot different. Who knows? May be I would have been blogging about a pink benarasi silk sari now. (*shrinks in confusion*).

No! this sounds much better!

I sound weird....and this is a very personal post...but needed to share somewhere. Couldn't have gone to jyotika..she has anyways tagged me the hopeless of the rarest variety (romantic I mean).

The Babri verdict and me. And us.

Time and age has made us realise that the most complicated kind of relationships (yes! I speak in the facebook lingo, any problem?) exist between man and woman. The coexistence however forced or chosen is bound to give rise to some amount of friction which is unavoidable. But it turns out to be enjoyable in most of the cases. Imagine your smoked hilsa without the adequate share of green chillies. There you go! spice is the way of life. But not always.

This is not about man-woman relationship. In case you thought it to be so, it's entirely my fault since I keep on writing about that stuff. My friends call me a hopeless romantic and I don't mind. More so because of the fact that being serious and drab doesn't come easy to me. But somehow I don't feel good about September 24. Yes! it's the day that many in this country have been dreading about and that includes our elected body of representatives who have gone ahead to form the Government. A few days back a regular (those boring government scheme types) advertisement caught my eye. Not because of it's presentation (they seriously need to work on that) but because of the content. It was an appeal on part of the Government of India, 'the Government of the people, by the people and for the people India' to maintain peace after the Babri Masjid judgement is delivered by the Lucknow Bench of the Allahabad High Court on September 24th. Frankly speaking the romantic in me wasn't happy. Neither did I see a reason to be so. The gloom of the situation had rubbed off.
As a law student I won't go into the technicalities of the numerous (to the extent hilarious) affidavits filed in this particular matter on issues which only vote bank politics (with a tint of orange and green both- their is no discrimination there you see!) can justify. My coffee table discussions with colleagues will suffice for that. and to think of it, this is just the beginning of the long drawn litigation process with avenues up to the Supreme Court of India being open. And now with the new found demand of an out of court settlement in form of an arbitration proceeding finding ground with one judge (dissenting on the count that his views were not taken into account before rejection of an affidavit supporting out of court settlement) all I can say is- picture abhi baki hain mere dost! Trust me! the Government supports this view in that public appeal too. I will keep short and simple here. That I am scared. I am very very scared.
I am scared because I fear for my family back home in Calcutta. I am scared because I have relatives living in the Hyderabad city. I am scared because I am here alone with a bunch of friends in Hyderabad. My father is supposed to make an official trip to Bombay in and around the time the verdict comes out and am hellbent on not letting him go. Is this the kind of atmosphere that the citizens of a country with supposedly one of the best economic growth rates in the world supposed to live in?? In fear??
In fear of an 18 year old ghost that comes back to haunt us every 6th December?????? I have my political leanings and be rest assured I don't prefer passing judgements on the saffron, secular or red brigade anytime soon.  But somewhere they boil down to the same leaning for titillation in politics. the basis of political theory of state (I know very little of that) is fearlessness. Fear leads to a state of anarchy, and aren't we headed there? I have been advised not to venture out in the city for atleast a week after the verdict. Hyderabad is known for it's mixed culture across religion and all credits to the people out here, I have never seen turmoil in the parts I have ventured in. But then isn't applying 144 CrPC the easiest way out during the ganapati visarjan and the eid celebrations every year in the old city?? What is it, if not fear? Tell me if I am reading too much into it.
I have cyber forensics as one of my seminar subjects in my final year of law school. We were supposed to make a trip to one of the forensic laboratories in the city form campus as a part of the course curriculum. But unfortunately we have to wait for some more time before that materialises. The Australian exchange student on campus asked me, why? I didn't have an answer. It isn't that she hasn't seen the ugly side of racial attacks in Australia. But living in fear is not justified anywhere right?
There are two bits of image which I think I will carry with myself forever. 18 years back I was a kid, my memory doesn't recall everything but yes I knew Curfew was a dreaded word. My mom and dad ran to the market nearby my house along with pishimoni, chotoamma and dadubhai to buy groceries and eggs when the curfew was relaxed for two hours. My pishimoni earlier used to saty ver close to our place, in fact just two houses removed from ours. My amma used to go there everyday and I used to tag along with her. No wonder she decided to visit their place after so long during those two hours. We were late.....suddenly the curfew was back and we couldn't come back....we might have over reacted, but a generous policeman helped me and amma walk back that distance. Can we always?...The distance between us have grown so much that walking back now is not even an option. The rest of India celebrated Ganesh Chatrurthi and Eid with elan. Nobody had time to think about Kashmir. And t think of those days when my amma's father's most trusted aide (he was a government contractor in erstwhile purbobongo) was a muslim man (I don't recall his name). Am sure many of us have heard stories like that and of those gory days like I did when my amma's  affluent family had to walk past the border with seven daughters in tow (or may be six since my amma was alreayd married by then). The fright of checkposts never made my amma welcome the birth of a girl child in our family. Too much of friction in a relationship makes for an overkill you see. you need the phases of sweetness in between, but unfortunately for us it always turns into an issue of us and them. Man and woman relationships have a hint of counselling attached- not in this case. Faith takes the centre stage.

So what if the Babri judgement says something decisively (that's plain and stupid) about the site beloging to one particular sect, will I stop being friendly with my muslim classmate who helped me so much with the passport formalities in Hyderabad? or will the family of Sumitra mashi, my domestic help in Calcutta or Sharda or the Needzwali aunty start earning more to fulfill their needs of two square meals a day. To tell you the truth, they will live in fear..more fear, just like I am now.

and the Constitution guarantees freedom of movement, conscience..blah blah blah....

P.S.- The Taliban destroyed the buddha statues in Bamiyan. did that alter history? or did it somehow prove that Buddhism never had reach on the land they claim to be their own? And who does that land belong to? You, me or God? How does that matter? I am scared.
P.P.S- It's my best friend's birthday today. Celebrated well. But this nagging fear had been there on back of my mind which forced this 3'o clock in the night blog entry.