Torsa Ghosal's Blog

A Saunter by the Graves

2007-01-31T06:28:00.000-08:00

It was just one of those days when my classes got over early, and as custom dictates us , if we ( me and my equally out of business friends!) are not interested in returning home just as early, we make it to the shopping malls or CCDs.

Yet today, it was different as one of my buddies suggested a different venue to vile away our not-so-precious time. It was the Park Street Cemetery. Merely a five minutes walk from college, I was aware of the existence of such a place but was not too excited about venturing there anyway. Yet, somehow we made it there.

My two other buddies, who were accompanying me had been there more than once before- one even claimed to be so fond of the place that she goes there thrice a week, and both all way long(which was not so long after all you see!) mused on their "favourite tombs" and spots in the cemetery. More intrigued than excited I entered the arena.
And my most amazing comment while signing the visitors book was -"O! this place is so silent and calm... umm.. ideal place for dating if you want to spend time in isolation but free...!!" I would ,however, rather take it back now. And as for what reaction I got from my pals when I made my stupid remark was a rather philosophical:" You know what I come here to talk with them(the tombs)!" and then silence followed.
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"Pour wine and dance if manhood still have pride,
Bring roses if the rose be yet in bloom;
............................................
Pull down the blinds, bring fiddle and clarionet
That there be no foot silent in the room
..............................................................
In vain, in pain; the cataract still cries;
The everlasting taper lights the gloom;"
-W. B Yeats

But gloom does not enter those shadowy corners of death that is adorned so beautifully, nor their(the one's whose body rests there) lives' essence remain preserved there in anyway. But without telling much the epitaphs successfully tell the story of strangers to strangers still as life honours the world of death.

Situated by the hustling bustling Park Street, I wonder how so much calm can penetrate into there.. can tombs absorb sound, I wonder??

"She lived respected
And she died lamented"

- read one of those epitaphs. Is not this the line the one for which any lady would lead a life of virtue?
I never knew who this certain Miss was, never will I know... I do not even know if this, her epitaph is a generous gift to a dead-soul by loved ones or if really she was as respected but, truths and lies merge when one is no more.. so who cares?!!

As I gaze minutely it becomes clear that the tombs are not only manifestations of christian architecture, in fact, they have quite a bit of Asian influence thrown in.. perhaps even the labourers who worked on the construction were asians- hindus, muslims et al. The dead will never know..... nor will the alive remember...

The grass is green, greener than I have ever percieved anywhere. People from/of different ages lie there. From a 9 month old baby to a 90 year old- there must have been difference in their experience, their lives... and so much more- yet I could not make out even slight difference between their tombs.

An epitaph, which apprently has a fan in one of my pals is written by a husband to his wife- who died young. The last two lines reveal his wish to reach the shores where both of them will be reunited never to part again.... I do not know if such a shore exists. Yet I am more baffled at the confident assertion of the doting(was he so, when she was alive??) husband to even think of reaching there. It is not a tale told of all love- it is either the transcendent love that makes him see that plane of union, or the utmost distrust in the same which makes him confident that whatever his epitaph declares, it is but sheer poetry to be read as his humble note of love for the departed, and the man of the world thinks he knows his poetic prayers will not be heard.

Walking past the dusty sites, our sight meandering through the gaps and lanes that would allow our visions to penetrate, the clock ticks away. We encounter a piece of broken off stone and dust on our way, even tombs are not permanent we are well aware, so perhaps the voice of the dead is as feeble as my and your voice, because after all we are the people who die.. I know I will die one day...
Compared to the thought of death, everything falls short.....

Ummm... "Why are you bunking your class to visit the cemetery?" my one friend asks another and I realise that one of my buddies has actually bunked her class to be there with us. Attendance.. excuse slip... so on and so forth, it does not even take a moment for thoughts to drift away from the larger to the trifle doing justice to the juxtaposition called life.

As we walk out of the graveyard, the conversation drifts from thought to thought-
"I would rather like myself to be buried in a grave than burnt, though the Hindu custom does not have it so.."
"True... I like graves coz the near and dear ones have at least 'some little thing' left of their beloved, even if it is the insensate grave"
"Don't worry, the rate at which you are smoking, albeit I do not know if you will be burnt after dying, yet I am sure you will die of burning inside out..!"
Philosophy.... religion... plancheat... soul.. spirit.. society... we give a five minutes to be shared by all subjects, promising to discuss more on the same at a some later moment.

But, all I remember now is that when I had last looked back into the cemetery, somewhere I had asked myself... if I be ever buried here, who will it be who will write the epitaph on my grave? someone I know already.. or some stranger still.. or well... as I see it, all graves do not have an epitaph!

The Metaphor of Rain in GURU

2007-01-30T00:20:00.000-08:00

I have not quite been able to forget the trickling of rain from the black umbrella as Lalan carried his wife in his arms to the humming of "Kabhi neem neem.. Kabhi Shahed shahed.." in Yuva, or for that matter the splash of sea water and wet rocks as Arvind Swami and Manisha Koirala sing "Tu hi Re.." in Bombay. Rahman, Ratnam and Rain seem to have more in common than just teh first two alphabets of their names, and somewhere down the line, I guess, intentionally or not they have built their very own visual metaphor with their association.

In GURU, of course, at least from my point of view, rain reaches beyond mere visual spectacle and transcends its conventional sensual confinings in its repeated usage in Indian cinema. Almost all the most important scenes and sequences in the movie bear the drenched look.

It starts with the introductory scene of the leading lady of the movie, Aishwarya Rai as Sujata dancing to "Barso re .." as wind and rain pelts on the soil of Gujrat. From this time on, the setting of the movie oscillates between Gujrat and Mumbai. None of these regions are particularly labelled, usually as the rain-prone regions of the country, though they might not be as dry as Rajasthan etc., but then, the oft repeated raining still seems like a deliberate inclusion.

The ambition of Guru Kant Desai, his vision and his lifes ups and downs comprise the main plot of the movie. The fairy tale journey of a man from starting a bussiness with dowry from his marraige to reaching the peak of success, which comes with effort and luck only supports the same, not constructs it- is what the movie can roughly be summarised as.

Of the many scenes in the movie in rain, one scene particularly draws attention. When Guru returns to his village Idhar,Gujrat to erect his factory after his first feat in Mumbai, after laying down the initial stone with Sujata, as he gazes on the plan of the factory raindrops, as if espousing his cause for a longer run as a merchant of dreams, pour in with a suitable background music complimenting the same.

As the plot thickens, Mr. Contractor tries bribing Guru and getting him out of his way, Guru drives to his faithful Cashier's place asking him to use the media against Contractor, his wife with him, the rain follows them there too.

One of the most touching scenes of the minor plots in the movie where Madhavan as journalist Shyam Saxena proposes Vidya Balan as Meenu despite knowing she has only 419 days to survive and that too in a most pathetic diseased state, and Meenu tries to resist suit as she looks at the practical side of things and hard realities of life, slanting drops of water add to the already swelling sea which makes for the backdrop of the scene.
Here the rain is more about intense pathos of human life than the joyful colour or power it stood for earlier.

But by far the most memorable shot in rain is that of Guru all set to console his share holders as they are about to lose faith in his company Shakti. As host of black umbrellas hustle bustle in the rain, almost unwilling to listen to Guru who's upon on a pedestal trying desperately to make his point, the reference to the entire group of share holders as one "family" and call for unity could have had no better objective correlative than the rain. The stifling gloom enmasking the image is in sharp contrast to the lush meadows, soaking temple walls of the "barso re.."-rain or for that matter any other previous scene. The unity of the "raindrops" could be a significant metaphor and so also the shower as the symbol of solace amidst suffocation, or even personify the on-going chaos itself. The ambiguity gives a certain charm to the scene and the interpretations of the same are irrelevant in the context of enjoying the Visual.

Rain in GURU does not restrict itself to the visual effect noly, rather it has it aural effect too and together they instil gradually an abstract dimension to the whole image in the viewer's mind. As success rains on GURU, it continues to pour in.... rain, rain.. all the way, not in vain though.

Scribbling....

2007-01-23T22:38:00.000-08:00

Wish fulfillment

Never has this pain been,
Any stronger than what I feel
Today, as that, which
I avoided, appears closer.

Distance I enjoy,
Time's waste I cherish.
Sufferings I muse on
And for the perfect, outreach.

As the bricks of the shaken soul's walls topple
Through the gaps I gape...
Into the hope-dabbled murky spaces
Where in my truths other things lose themselves,
Only to percieve how I live in the world of
Self-created dogmatic myths.

And now,the probable's vicinity
The sudden rapture of coincidence
And an almost on verge realisation
Of Destiny.... or may be again,its futile attempts.

I know not what it calls for-
Though the call is not new...
Just that the times have changed
And everythings happening as I wanted to.

But what if it all really happens
Did I ever want this?
If an uncertainity does end here
Do I get bliss in sleep;
Or the bargain's for even
More tormented dreams??

Net-working!!!

2007-01-23T21:16:00.000-08:00

Almost a year back a rather short e-mail in my inbox from an old acquaintance read :"here's a latest site for networking... i m sending u the invitation.. join in!!!"
I do not know what exactly those three exclaimation marks were supposed to mean but then, already having had the taste of a few other networking sites, I went on to try this one too... and well... now, an year later- I m still trying.. but the purpose is different now of course- now m trying to give up on my addiction with the same site!
That's the irony. Networking sites are working overtime to connect people and well, everything's easy now.... virtual reality is what connects people far faster and easier than the "reality" as it were.
I have friends without names, friends without faces, cousins, estranged family members, new friends and .. ummm.. the most important of them all -friendship requests from strangers more than I ever could think of.
And a quick scanning of my scrapbook shall show how much crap I can weave, that's the latest outlet of my creative spirit you see!!, as in I was particularly good at it always, but now I have matured immensely in quick time. Its credible to have the maximum number of scraps amongst your friends... and credible still to speak of things that make no sense for hours at a stretch and even more credible to have your private conversations exposed for public review. Very few people should have some real interest in my life, fewer still should be a part of my life but then, with private convos kept open it's like inviting people and harping on the ever sneak peeking tendencies of people to passively interest them to read of your life!
One fact is that, I have got back in touch with lots and lots of people.. some with whom I really wanted to get back, and some with whom I thought I would never have too... Yuk.... You see, the "no" in the accept friendship request box is a formality... if u know someone you can not really reject a friendship request just like that... I mean thats the "net courtesy" that many of us follow!
By the way, in case you are still trying to figure out what I am trying to say.. well it is just that I am tired of the irresistable temptation of socialising with pals and keeping a watch on the daily conversations of my best buddies, to read the unsaid secrets... blah blah....
And the precise reason why I m writing this rather wierd post is that... well.. I have scrapped a friend who's taking ages to reply to the same..... so thought will make good use of the net connection at home.... just like that I write this.. while the networking sites work over time to connect people who, I really m in doubt ,if at all want to be connected in the "real".. the virtual to me is still a different world.....

Marks... all the divide..!!

2006-12-01T07:23:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I wonder what our lives would be like if there were no numbers. Now it's a different fact altogether that this idea dawns upon me before mathematics exams more often but to concentrate on the larger picture, are stats all that important?

At the risk of sounding like a fool, I hereby infere that at some levels may be if we could possible erase numbers, our lives would be ten times as easy. Erase numbers and half the fissures in the world are bridged just like that!

My college life was just fine until the marks for Semester 1 got out. We were this "one-big-happy family" until then but not any more. Now that the results were out those numbers in itself seemed to bring an analytical approach in everyone! "I care a fig 'bout how much I get.." that's all we said but later forgot.The question was not only who got how much, but also if he/she deserved it. Who's girlfriend got more than whom and have a good laugh at that as the rest of the class laughs at you. and if you are the topper by chance, you are on everyone's hit list. So if you as much as wink at some one it could mean all but a joke! "O.. the prof. likes here more than he like me.. may be cuz she'z cuter!" But she was cute always and may be the prof. liked her always, but it takes marks to get people speculating what was never/always present otherwise.

"Had my friend's father not got all the money, with her kind of result she would not be able to go and study in Boston.." There you go, from results to bucks... its numbers again. Half of your friends read your shrug to be arrogance if only by any wierd source they get to know you are financially much better off than them, and the same could draw comments like "not-so-refined" if on the other hand your financial status be the oppsoite. Just tell people your dress is costly and brought from some branded store, you get the "woah!" look from most, whereas, had that same crap been sold at your neighbourhood infamous store, it would be labelled "oh-so-cheap".

Recently, I met some old aunts and uncles at a wedding after quite a few years. To my mom they said," O she's good.. but she's not got her father's height.." Now what on earth can I do if I am not 5 feet 10!! And had I been so, would not I be contesting for Miss India, but it seems we always need to be shorter/taller, fatter/slimmer as the case may be to fit the bill.. the comparitive degree always persists!

Had there been no conception of the clock, I would not be sued for arriving at college any time that suited me.

And we obviously know that had it been not for the unequal distribution of wealth( wonder who distributed it though! ) our social structure and even norms would be totally different! Of course one added advantage would be that there would be no numerologists to torcher the poor souls and no mathematics to torment me..!!

But sadly, nothing is all advantageous. And the intelligent people will put forward the clever reasons for why its not all good. For me... if there were no numbers, I guess an alphabetical phone code instead of phone numbers would be tougher to remember, and that means I would not be efficiently able to give missed calls while hibernating during boring lectures or seminars!!

Happy Diwali

2006-10-20T22:31:00.000-07:00

As the candle burns fast,
As the thick winds try to play with its flame,
It braves them all,
And spreads light all the same.

Each flame owns a spectrum,
Its own statement it is of existence…
Just like the city wakes all night,
Listening to its own fire cracker’s rain.

It is the hour of glory now,
A moment that will last a second in terms of the cosmic,
Yet here is life, yes it is
A dynamic status of sustenance.

Nothing is small,
Nothing long… only the big is to outshine all
A day it might be,
This diwali, yet the spirit testifies it stands tall.

No darkness can be darker than the hollows of mind,
No ghost ghastlier than the evil in me,
Today’s the night to hold the lamp
And face that monster and char it away.

The smiles are temporary, yet the sensation lives,
So profound a joy in reunion
You shall find, make sure tonight
The selfish solitude leaves…

What else is the light for..
Not for just the illuminated homely décor,
It is for the warmth that shall outdo winter’s fall
Let the light light your soul….

Happy Diwali.

Its me.. breaking the habit 2nite...

2006-09-30T08:51:00.000-07:00

Okay.. now this is not any musical criticsm on the Linkin Park hit.. but just a kind of personal take on the lyrics of the song. I guess this is one song i can relate to line by line as far as my thoughts go.. so here it is- just a thought...
"Memories consume
Like opening the wound
I’m picking me apart again
You all assume
I’m safe here in my room
(unless I try to start again)"
Do I need to say how memories consume. you know what I m real nostalgic person. I dream more from my oast than plan for the future anytime. Some say, a bad memory is the secret to happiness- in that case me not happy at all.. and wont be ever perhaps. I love to memorise, think and feel melancholic in any case... if its a good memory- i get low coz its all gone.. 'nd if its bad.. i feel miserable for my past!!! See. thats why they say: "inside I realise I m the one confussed!!!"
And when my stands about space and time are at a perennial loss how am I to face the battle??? hmm... linkin park's rite:
"I donno wots worth fighting for"- yep, thats linkin Park screaming... I mean- singing and me loving it.
But on second thoughts I feel as though they are articulately stating what I feel... I seriously at times am at a loss of what is fighting for... and who to stand for in the god damn system. Now dont even dare to ask me which/what system?
Everything on this earth is under the scanner of something strange- a system as they say... In our country 'democracy' being the favourite of 'em all... we love debating... we love voting and ruminating over the results. And this doesnt necessarily mean I m talking of the national politics- I am talking of everything in general... Its the face of diplomacy that turns me off at times. Why cant we go ahead and just do something... something about anything!!!! at least there'll b some kinda action then.
Even while chatting with friends many a times I have felt this! Hey, the wierdest thing I have had to experience has been the fact that say, in front of a group I m defending a certain frnd of mine... suddenly he/she comes up and flips 360 degree and I m the one left feeling embarrassed!!!
In the official systems of the country-papers get lost in offices in a bid to get apt approval... yet the process is important- I cant go against it coz you know its important for every important person to go through the files before giving a nod- see opinions count!
Yes, counting thats another thing I hate.. the statistics from the size of my waist to the scoresheet after exams are big spoilers!
Be it the battle between past and present.. in the diplomacy.. battles for votes .. frendz ... its I who have to decide! but why should i always face the battles? why??

"I don’t know why I instigate
And say what I don’t mean
I don’t know how I got this way
I know it’s not alright"
Yep, I know something is not right with me. i always end up doing what I had not wanted to. For that matter yesterday night I was thinking, how I have become someone I dont want to be... I go through such phases dont worry.. but yes, I do say what i dont mean- or more precisely its again the battle of wrong interpretation. Gosh! the society sucks!! They provoke you- you lose it- and you are dea- thats the three sentence story!
Clutching my cure
I tightly lock the door
I try to catch my breath again
I hurt much more
Than anytime before
I had no options left again

I’ll paint it on the walls
‘Cause I’m the one at fault
I’ll never fight again
And this is how it ends

Clutching the door.... thats what I do in bathroom- face the mirror and try to face myself- but even that mirror's a big betrayer!!! the water from the basin sprays over it, and its has got so hazy.. my blurred vision gets even more dissolved when i face it! And thats worse.. no options left! More often than not, I know when I m at fault- But heck, cant face it... or even if face it cant really make others feel the same. So this is exactly-'how it ends'!!

So finally I have decided... enough is enough. I need a serious break from my sucker attitude. The world seems not ready to change... I guess I have to take the pain on myself...take all the trouble. So there's a good news:
"I m breaking the habit tonite!"
But I have had many such nights before... whenever i fell things going wrong... So the million dollar question is should I break my habits? or rather will I be able to??
ah.... its the battle again- you see every step. And now I need people to raise their hands who feels I should go for it... you see thats democracy. Me just a small prey of it all... whateva u say- seems to be the motto everywhere, but yea, as I said inside i realise I m the one confused!!! hence i wont face the battle of who this 'you' everyone leaves eveything is!.. for that matter I guess out of the bla..bla... i jotted that- 'you' has to make sense of...and you have to... you decide!!!!
'i am breaking the habit 2nite...'- This tym its Linkin Park singing not me saying it...so njoi!

Music and melancholy......as I remember

2006-07-05T00:43:00.000-07:00

These chords mean to me, today as they never did before...

The lullaby of fond nights and warms arms, the mettalic trances of the juxtapositioning of my two egos under one skin, or the repitative octaves flowing from hot afternoons... they pour in to my ears from different quarters today, they pour in.. never go and all they do is to make me take note and remember...
There's a thing about nostalgia, its melancholic, yet musical. It is periodic like music and depressing as melancholy. I hear it breath within me, right now, all over again. So I need to talk out of them.

These thoughts are profound interrelated bilabials sorted carefully out of my existence. You could call them emblems of time that was... or the symbol of my hope lingering on, so as to bring them back- like rewinding an old record.
Its nothing new that I write here. Nothing new really, and nothing personal too. In fact thats what is so attractive about music and melancholy- both are universal. Hence, unlike sufferings I enjoy both- music and melancholy. It makes me feel like a microcosm of the deep cosmos.
Many a times at work, or at some bussiness, my eyes fell upon a rack full of CDs. I most instantly start reading the labels, trying to search for a thing that I am not aware of... minutes pass like whirlwind... sometimes...
Sometimes... as I notice after a long spell my vision has actually stuck to a label. A song, an artiste name... or worse still, if its just a word... and then spontaneously what starts is a series of recollections. Negatives of the mind get the dark room to develop into blurred yet strong prints of moments.
Many a times have I crossed a road and felt baffled at the junction when I heard a song- with something of my soul attached to it, playing on a rather poor quality radio from a rusty tea shop... and then almost in a spree I run back to take a sip of the worst drink of my life at the same stall- just to be able to hear the thing being played... the tea doesn't taste that bad then, after all... its taste of nostalgia, with the leaves of melancoly thrown in.
And the last place on earth that I glance at is the discarded basket of my cassattes- it could as well kill me to look at so many beautiful things that I have lost to life... and yet the truth is sometime I myself have carefully plucked out those little anecdotes from life- to move on.
That makes me wonder- music, melancholy and movement, three words starting with the same alphabet could be such oxymorons! Music and Melancholy hold Moments still, while movers pass away.
There are songs I associate to a certain part of my life. Songs that are alive like images in my mind. Songs that mean a certain person to me.
Somehow I have come to attach certain hymns like- "You are the light of the world", "And God still loves the world" with my high school days. While visiting a church much after leaving school I had heard the latter being played on a piano... Never before had the song been so important to me, but that day while I heard it in the church, I sort of imagined myself back to the assemblies.
"My December"... makes me recollect three vitals months of my life. Three months- March, April and May... yet read the lyrics it says- 'This is my december.." Huh! Music creates Decembers in Summer! and yep, makes them memorable too!
"Coffee House"- has a steam filled afternoon image attached to it, which I so enjoy. It always makes me feel as though someone is leaving forever, moving away though slowly, from my life. It used to be sung almost every year during our school farewells.
"Leaving on a Jet plane", really is the wierdest of associations I make. I always kind of imagine a friend dedicating it to me. Both of us never heard this song together... neither did we ever discuss it, yet if ever I think of that friend with hope of reuniting, that bright streak of hope comes from the lyrics of a song that I believe was what the friend felt closest to while leaving!
And you know what.. the list of my favourite songs today is so much influenced. Most of them are indeed favourites of other pals. And I love those numbers just as I love my buddies. So each time I hear those songs, I take the leave to ruminate time spent with them. The precious moments make them so special.
People say distance makes the heart grow fonder. I say distance makes the songs seem lovelier. The farther you are the songs then become the epicentre of all the attachment. Many a times I have fel, its the love for the song, and hearing it- thats all we share other than the love and the distance!
People say Old wine is more intoxicating, I say old songs are.... Yes and I feel it!
Its so tough to remember more of these songs which almost hold me in their clutches at one go... in fact its tougher to summarise how they make me feel. But I guess its not all that tough after all for people to get what I mean because sometime or the other they must have felt like me!
Its not all memories of past.. it sometimes is the imagination of the future that hooks me on. How about a guy singing "I can love you like that" on the whispering shores of some unknown sea, at sunset and trying to woo me! heh. some imagination!
Well... well.. you see music and melancholy can take you on high- higher than all of the strongest hard drinks mixed together, and that, without making you feel dizzy! Try it and you will know!
Music is really a thread that binds every breath of ours. Every dream it encompasses. For the worst singers and musical-illiterates like me, its symphony is an undecrypted Script, the spelling of life...
Hey! but the whole idea of writing this post was to sum up how I feel, just after hearing a favourite note intruding, and then divert attention, get on with my present life...
But these expressions fail to soothe my heart... Once again I gotta hoot-Gimme back my music or I Die!!!!!!!!

(Note:The pictures in this post are from google images)

Holiday Blues

2006-05-27T01:10:00.000-07:00

Every time exams knocked my door I would push myself into the thing with the sole consoling at the back of the mind that it will soon be followed by a holiday. And it did. Holidays came, those idle afternoons with nothing special to do…those evenings when even the most favourite movies appear quite unexciting simply because there’s nothing (or more precisely ‘no one’- read parents/teachers) to stop me from watching them. Without obstacles even the most lovely things appear bleak.
No complains still. Because the very idea of holidays has a hypothetic excitement attached to it. It could be the most boring break- yet holidays it is.
School holidays are still the bright sunshine filled idea in any school goers mind. You know, there was a time when vacations for school goers meant a gala time of outdoor games, having fun with neighbours and friends alike… but today it has changed more or less. As in different boards have different patterns of holidays. Some of my friends’ summer vacations commence, when mine is about to end! More importantly some of the students hardly have room for ‘vacations’ in their course of activities…dance/song/drama classes, tuitions, coaching, even sports trainings mar the whole situation…and eventually extra classes to make up for the losses that happen during usual school days…so holidays become more filled with work than usual school days…but yet kids hardly complain- for still holidays it is. At least the sound of the word ‘on a vacation’ is sweet music to their ears.
Colleges, the song and dance around trees happens only in bollywood flicks, in reality there are dragons lovingly called-‘Sems’(semesters), at least twice a year coming to your doors, and then if you manage to survive them you have the so called vacations coming with projects to be completed, notes to be arranged, professors to be tackled at private tutorials…yet no one complains. Vacations are always welcome- even if its worse…at least during college there’s some adventure coz of bunking classes.( though more often than not, students bunk so many classes, that attending classes seem a good change! but whatever....)
For average office goers today… it’s almost the same scenario. As in, they do not have tuitions for sure, but the load of work doesn’t always stay away. Yes you have ‘holiday homework’ in offices too these days…. may be not as compulsive as in schools, and there’s no teacher ordering it- but there are bosses, your own responsibilities, and above all the idea at the back of the mind- that in case you shun work totally on a holiday, you might have to have to your bedding put up in your office for a week after resuming work…scary! It’s just that the working on off-days is more like a personal choice (at least people love to believe that.). And better still if a sudden phone call of emergency comes from office- you are back to work within minutes- hours…depending on the distance you are from your nearest work place. This of course is a curse of cell phones… at least your boss would take some time to look for the phone number of the hotel you were in on your vacation, then by good fortune if you happen to be out at that instant, the whole process of getting the SOS message would take longer, but thanks to personal cells no such good fate! Well even then the very thought of ‘holidays’ is enough to bring a bright grin on anyone’s face. No one complains.
Hey and for homemakers…its even stranger- they do not seem to have holidays at all. Unofficially they work through the year, yet no fancy off-days. Even on tours they have to do everything to make sure that things are in place. Yet they hardly seem to have a room for complain…they are eternally on ‘holidays’, or so it’s thought…coz they have a no pay voluntary job for most of the year.
Holidays don’t mean spare time, holidays do not mean having a great time always either…yet holidays they are…. holidays are not the idle afternoons, neither are they the day long sessions of tutorials, camps or scanning of files….
Yet we love it. Perhaps because its one of the rare instants when we have the opportunity to break the rule, move away from the track, and live the myth- that we are doing things at our will…the dream that we are apparently free (even if we actually are not)…
Other than having the first two alphabets of their spelling identical, ‘holiday’ and ‘hope’ have something else in common too, at least in their interpretation by the common man- both push you through that extra distance….

(Note:The picture is from www.giantimages.jpg)

Flip side to creativity

2006-04-26T04:05:00.000-07:00

The current hot topic, that seems to breach copyright and has ended up in battle of publishing houses, thanks to Opal Mehta and her creator Kaavya Vishwanathan, exposes the flip sides of creativity all over again.
And the funny part is that the book, which was nothing quite a path breaking stuff was hyped a lot, for god knows what reasons...so much so that Kaavya became the face of the moddern Asian youth in America! at least the press said so. Now that the creativity of the author is in question, the fall is doubly hurting! A wannabe icon brought down from her pedestal..for well 'obvious' reasons.
Now be it an international bestselling writer Dan Brown's high profile case with the authors of Holy blood, Holy grail; or be it a famous Indian director Sanjay Leela Bhansali being allegeted to have ripped off sequences form the English movie- The Miracle worker and Bengali play Janmadin; or be it the latest addition to the list- Kaavya Vishwanathan geeting 'influenced' by teenage book writer Mcafferty, one thing that comes to highlight time and again is the fact that the people crowned to be the most creative are not the most 'original' of the lot.
But the miilion dollar question here is, is creativity 'original' at all? or is it but a permutation combination of old things that go in making something new. I mean is it all about presenting 'old wine in a new bottle' and then trying to hide your source?
Its tough to answer this question. But another beaming question here is, not only about what creativity is all about or what it is meant to be, but also the fact where do we differentiate between 'inspired' work and 'plagiarism'.
It is said that its okay to be inspired by some other persons works, even great men have taken that path. For that matter Sir William Shakespeare's plays always borrowed historical details, but then Dan Brown being questioned when he has reportedly done something similar i.e taken facts from Holy blood, Holy grail! {May be because in Shakespeare's case the facts were 'historical details' and in Brown's case the 'Holy blood...' puts forward an idea...which Dan allegedly tried to use. An idea belongs to the author, history belongs to nature...n time, so like perhaps there's the difference..may be...}

In Kaavya Vishwanathan's case though, the latest addition in the list, the things are a bit different. Her passages have uncanny similarities with Megan Mcafferty's books. And not once or twice but forty times- 'unintentionally' the Indian-American teenager has
taken passages from Mcafferty's books.
Well when you like a piece of work, no doubt its impression stays on in your mind, and I do agree that you might just unintentionally happen to reproduce them, but then word-word reproduction that too as many as 40 times...is it possible?
And even if that happens, her publishers had the responsibilty of editing the piece before it struck the market, so they too should have taken care of it.

A recent news report ( by NDTV, click here to read it) says the Mcafferty has not accepted Kaavya's apologies- fair enough on her part too.
When you take the pains of doing something, and someone else more easily cashes it, it does trouble a lot!
Kaavya has promised to rewrite the portion of the book wherever similarities have been found, but then will that do any good. On the first hand she did not require negative publicity at all, because her astronomical money deal and her book had anyways got her in news for sometime, but this controversy can affect her more than it did to many other writers because this was her first book and not many publishers may like to work with her in future, but sales of her 'How Opal Mehta..' will definitely increase.

And the worst part of the story is that Kaavya was just protrayed to be a teenage icon before the stemming of this publicity, so her image suffers doubly.
The Harvard Crimson has raised old questions regarding the integrity of an artisty and authenticity of her works all over again.
Some things are tough to end, some things disappoint time and again.
why on earth do people with creative minds not get the hang of the fact that sooner or later their ripping off acts will come before public!
Kaavya's main storyline too reportedly has similarities with Mcafferty's book.
(article:Nilanjana S Roy: Kaavya Viswanathan: Sloppy Seconds)

Whatever Kaavya's fate be, all writers or artists for that matter should try and maintain the decency of respecting other person's copyrights! And in case they do get 'deeply' influenced, there's no point in hiding it. Instead, they could add that in acknowledgements.

Every year thousands of manuscripts of young, wanna be and talented writers go to the dustbins of renowned publishers...some of them are really good and original too..may be...and publishers dont take a look. There's no scarcity of artists in the world, but only the deserving should walk away with the laurels...And for god's sake publishers should watch their steps, so that they are not desperately driven to situations where by they have to take to addressing the media day in and out, to prove they were 'not in the wrong act'!
And for Kaavya...well dear this time not Opal but you goofed up! Not again! :)

Quota cooking...

2006-04-24T10:58:00.000-07:00

Okay now this title i know is quite wierd. Quota cooking- but i chose it for two specific reasons. One of course as you would have guessed, the aliteration factor, but the other is actually not that irrelevant to the whole post. The other reason is that the system is cooking new stories every day to support or reform this amazing system of reservation.
Firstly I do not understand the whole concept of reserving seats. If someone is not deserving then why give out the seat to him/her in the first plce. Isn't quality all that matters? And isn't this actually quite paradoxical when the same system vouches for 'equality' too time and again.
Secondly, it's not the caste or creed that needs help in general. Sc/St people are as good or as bad as the general category students, in general with a few exceptions may be. So it's better to help eligible students with poor financial backgrounds.

Thridly if a tribe does need help, still the Quota system does far from helping them. In the interiors of places like Midanapore in Bengal there are people living in villages unheard of, and who's conditions are unthinkable and they genuinely need help. But they do not even have the priviledge or mindset to go for a primary education- so how does reserving seat in IIMs and IITs help them?

Our society is supposeed to be secular, so my concern is not the 49.5% reservations the quota offers but the reduced seat for the General category candidates.They work hard, and really give it their best shot, so why are they supposed to suffer and face a steeper competition- it's not their fault that they were born socialy priviledged.

And then again whats the whole point in keeping a doctor in a hospital who might not befit the post otherwise?

Everything as its pros and cons, but as a student myself and victim of the system, i can hardly be philosophical enough to muse over the pros of this Quota misadventure of the Government. But more importantly doe sthe government care as to what, we the students think? Isn't it the stage for only hard-core poltics going on...may be some vote banks benefit due to all these..but is it all for good?

I am no judge, just one of the many voices who feel alike. But we dont have many listeners!

Sourav Ganguly - wierd chapter of Indian cricket

2006-04-05T23:15:00.000-07:00

While in class X, as per the syllabus of the ICSE council we happened to read Julius Caeser, where in the opening scene readers come across a strange group of people- the Roman plebians who are allegedly crazy hero worshipers and their memory indeed is quite volatile, so once they used to cheer for Pompey, while later they cheer for Caeser after he kills Pompey.

As to why I refer to this chapter in literature in a blog dedicated to Sourav should not be quite ambiguous. After all have we behaved any different from the Roman plebians in cheering the former captain when he was at his best and then blaming him, post some illogical allegations made by some Chapel, who interestingly enough happened to be in the position that he is today because of this same Sourav.

Tables turn, and I am afraid quite fast. in 1995 following Sourav's debut glory Chapell belonged to the Boycott group of Sourav lovers who even titled him as 'man with golden hand' since he was doing well not only as a batsman but also as a bowler.

Then again when Sourav was out of form before an Australian series, Chapel helped Sourav out. Great rapport between the two worked!

But when the same man was called as the coach of India, and eventually Sourav fought with everyone else to bring him in- it was Sourav who was stung! Veterans had warned Sourav but he still went for Chapel and thats why he's suffering now.

No one suffers without a fault- and Sourav too is suffering not just like that, i agree. First fault is that- he could not judge Chapel properly and secondly because he did not agree to be Chapel's puppet unlike Dravid. But interestingly enough both of these are non-cricketing reasons.

And the much hyped Sourav's out of form legend is a bit exxagerated. No doubt! He was out form for about an year, but point out a single cricketer who hasn't gone through a bad patch, including the current 'Napolean' of Indian cricket- Mr. Rahul Dravid.
He was terribly out of form in one days and was on the verge of being dropped, when a certain Sourav Ganguly consented to taking him up as a wicket keeper- in spite of his odd wicket keeping abilities, just to retain him in the team and give him a second chance.

Our great vic-captain Virender Shehwag is no exception- even he's been out of touch for quite long. And if India's youth power is so strong, then recently why was an injured Shewag made to play in the ODI versus England, so that he scores a queer 4 or 5 again and gets out? Why wasn't he replaced?

And if age is anything to go by, then Rahul Dravid and Sourav are almost of the same age- then why shouldn't Dravid retire?

Some people point out it's Sourav Ganguly's attitude problem, that cost him his position in the team- then tell me does attitude gaurantee you runs? or are matches won because of 'attitude'? If matches were won of attitude then Austalia, the masters of sledging should have been banned by now!

When Chapel came to India, he said his priority while selection will always be performance, if thats so then after good performances in Ranji trophy and domestic cricket why wasn't Sourav taken back to the team. In the only chances he's got so far in Karachi, when no one was scoring runs he scored in thirties and Chapel himself praised him for scoring under tough conditions. And the Indian team manager had gone on record admiring Sourav's behaviour.

When Chapel had entered the Indian cricket circuitry, he had commented that Sachin Tendulkar's golden period is over. But Sachin has been playing- and has been allowe dto do so, because of two reasons- one of course that Sachin steers clear of controversy and in his silence people find passive support- like Dravid and Chapel are finding now. And the second reason is that sachin hails from Marashtra, whose lobby in Indian cricket is anyways stronger than that of Bengal. Until the regional selection system of Indian cricket is dissolved the lobby system could not be undermined.

If sourav is not given a chance how will he prove his form, he cant prove that he plays well by playing at the backyard of his Behala house!!!
And after a man scores 10000 runs, does he need to shout from his rooftop that I am existing in this country and I want to play!!

The selection panel was never more one-man committe ever before. It is Chapel centric. And Kiran More is just a nobody. After all he's doing what Chapel is telling him to. Actually there has not been a single instance when Kiran more refused to take Sourav and Chapel expressed his wishes to take Sourav in.
The only time Sourav was taken so far was because the parliament had started to take a look into the matter and any enquiry would be harmful for the configuration of BCCI. so scared to be put to test, the selection panel gave in.

Kiran More has recently been put to the scanner for his closeness to Indian players and Chapel. Are not all these scandals inter-related.

Diplomacy is not Sourav Ganguly's nature, and so he hasn't taken to diplomacy and went out to media to reveal that Chapel had asked him to step down. So does he have to pay for telling the truth and not taking to hypocrisy of hiding things? just like Yuvraj, Harbhajan, Zaheer who went all out to support Sourav and hence have been in bad books of Chapel ever since. If Sourav's so bad, then why did they support him- risking their own careers? if Sourav's so bossy then why did Sunil Gavaskar come all the way to Kolkata to felicitate him recently and ask him not to consider retirement.

He even proved his innocence against all allegations chapel had against him. Then now why still Sourav has to remain out of the team?
Why is there such a big question mark over his cricketing career?
He definitely does not deserve this for cricketing reasons.

And what attitude does Chapel talk of- a man who advised his team mate to bowl underhand to win a match!

Sourav will have his day- sooner or later...but justice belated is justice denied. Will Sourav remain as an unsolved and humiliated hero of Indian cricket? Will the ending of this chapter be as wierd as its starting? Only time can tell.
Anyone else in Sourav's place would gave inj to so much pressure by now..but he's Sourav- who's made impossible possible. He has concieved the picture of Team India- a 'team' that never was in our country earlier. So only Sourav can fight it out.

Sunshine and laughter

2005-11-21T22:49:00.000-08:00

Hey…so you are alive? You see its yet another day of your life and hey, you are again to face life today. New life, new day. Nothing that has happened to you so far will repeat itself today. Yesterday is gone and it’s ‘today’ for you and yes you are another day closer to your death…
But still that you live, you can feel the blood running in your veins, the breath in your lungs, the fragrance of the day and the sunshine in your open palms…so what are you waiting for? This could be a new chapter in my blog, or the last post on it…so? Who cares? As long as I am alive…could be for a minute, a second or a moment …but see I survived.
So why do we plan the future if it does not belong to us? Why think of others and what others thought of us when my future is free of ‘em all. Why wait for tomorrow to bring the happiness of life. How much does it take to be happy? Five seconds- It’s simple…try it out, right now.
Five…fix your eyes on any of the bright colours on this blog skin…four…take a deep breath …three…stretch your lips casually and relaxed…two… close your eyes and feel the most beautiful moment according to you…one- see you are smiling!!

And when you smile the warmth of sunshine makes itself prominent in every facet of your life.
Whatever we do in life is a quest for nothing but happiness. So you too at your heart think that if so and so happens to you, you will be happy. Okay! If that’s so, and you feel happiness is miles away…think again- you have a day today, you have the breath…the heart…the soul…celebrate right now because happiness will come to you some day as you thought, now see you are happy right now! That’s all it takes.

All that you need is a positive frame of mind to get all that you wanted…all…I say...all…the sunshine…the laughter…or…whatever…

Cry- a poem on child sexual abuse

2005-11-06T00:23:00.000-08:00

Hello,

Our society is progressing, but in what ways? and how? Is the sky-touching success in technology and science all that is required for a perfect society?

No, thats what anyone shall say. But do we all do what we say. Do our actions define our views or at least do justice to our thoughts?
If it were so, then could evils like child sexual abuse exist in this world. Think, and let your actions obey your thoughts. Have a clear and honest vision. If you are sick, come on acknowledge it. Make this world a better place to live in. Here's a poem...

Cry

I was a bud,
Awaiting bloom on the sunshine day
Saving my fragile tenderness for the hopeful season of bliss.
But …it was a fateful moment I was destined for,
A moment when some fingers scratched my petals with lust,
Some half-greedy half-maniac quick fingers
Squeezed my growth pressing me hard against the dust,
Then one by one they tore away my each gay frill
Leaving me just as bones wrapped in skin,
And …yet I was supposed to survive at will!

I was a smile,
Impatient to be worn by a radiant face in time
Preparing to bounce off infectiously from face to face.
But…a dry twig with its thorny plate ripped me totally.
Each thorn pierced through my quiet plump skin.
Each brush of the twig ensured it sucked my juice brutally.
I bled like hell, and now I lay bereft of all splendour.
What splendour? I did not even have my cloth on.
I was left naked in front of a watering tongue as ruddy meal,
And …yet the world demands my survival that too at will!

I was a virgin cloth,
Freshly out of the weaver’s loom…just drenched
In multi-coloured dye for scattering bountiful brilliance unfound.
But …a greedy needle arrived from somewhere,
Penetrating my chest inside out without a bit of sound.
Unripe for use I was then but a cluster of thread,
And yet in haste they wanted to wear me around.
By and by my entire body was peeled off.
How I lasted I do not remember albeit I know,
My future that once was as bright as any others was sealed off.
My destiny bartered me in a nasty deal.
And … yet my torn existence was made to survive at will!

Who I am today I do not know.
And who I will be is out of consideration.
That I once was something is now today just a mere recollection,
Shadowed by the montage of torture and abuse’s impression.
I live today in front of you,
Though my growth is unseen.
You can find me all about the place,
With an inside of lulling silence hungry and lean.
Now remember my sight amongst those you have seen…
I am alive…still dead,
‘Save me, save me’ is what today my existence does mean…

Nature's wrath had done it!!-Kashmir quaked

2005-11-06T00:11:00.000-08:00

When the earth quaked…..

There is a land on this earth which listens to the gushing Jhelum and twittering Dal lake guarded by gallant mountain –the Himalayas, cutting across its chest. Its silent onlooker the maple trees, wink their eyes when the leaves are swayed by ever passing cold breeze.
There is a land whose people are as sweet as the apples growing in the range, a land that has mesmerised every man with its ethereal beauty it hosts…a land for friends it was, accidentally torn apart by foes! The snow-covered hills have echoed the message of white, pure peace but people answered that call with a different note, with guns and blood…with raw violence that in evil hearts are still afloat.
Welcome to Kashmir! The land associated with virgin beauty and ruthless terror simultaneously. Every day as the sun rises, the people of the valley await a new dawn as rest of the world, but alas! God knows why they are always denied, they are always deprived. Sometimes by human forces…sometimes by nature, this paradise’s existence is always under the unseen’s scrutiny, and every time the omnipotent seems to question-has this heaven the right to survive?
Kashmir was divided between the two countries after they fought a war following their independence from Britain in 1947. The rivals have fought two wars over the region and their troops were in eyeball-to-eyeball contact along the border for decades until a cease-fire was signed two years ago.
Islamabad is also accused for allowing Muslim militants to sneak into Indian Kashmir from Pakistani territory to fan a 16-year separatist insurgency among the region's mostly Muslim population. Many families in the region are separated by the border and India doesnot allow phone links to the other side. Pakistan and India have already fought two wars over this disputed valley. Terrorism had almost killed the spirit of the valley and its doors had even closed for the tourists. Always guarded by huge military troops this piece of land has seen friction between the military and the local residents. The houseboats that once symbolised epitome of wonder in the region were more or less stalled for years. Freedom and liberty took different meaning for different people in the valley and nationalism too assumed new meanings tearing the valley apart.
After years of panicking the Kashmir valley was witnessing a progress of talks in restoring peace by the two countries- India and Pakistan. Change was beginning to happen and awareness level that violence cannot win anything seemed to rise. Recent efforts were bringing some relief to this region. Its gateways were opened for the tourists who were more than happy to treat their eyes with the splendour of Gulmarg, Khilenmarg,triangular lake, dal lake, pari mahal, moti mahal its famous gardens- nishat bagh, Shalimar gardens, nasim bagh, charminar et al, its holy insights- hazratbal, shankar acharya mandir, jama masjid etc.and of course the grand floating houseboats.

Come October 2005 yet another set back for this fragment of earth. The Kashmir earthquake of 2005 was an earthquake that occurred at 08:50:38 Pakistan Standard Time (09:20:38 India Standard Time), on October 8, 2005 with the epicentre in the Pakistan-administered region of the disputed territory of Kashmir with its epicenter at 34° 29' 35 N, 73° 37' 44? E, about 19 km (11.8 miles) northeast of Muzaffarabad [7], and 100 km (65 miles) north-northeast of Islamabad (Pakistan). It registered 7.6 on the moment magnitude scale making it a major earthquake similar in intensity to the 2001 Gujarat Earthquake, the 1935 Quetta earthquake and the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The Indian ocean earth quake of 2004 was 9.15 on the scale by comparison.

There have been many secondary earthquakes in the region, mainly to the northwest of the original epicentre. 147 aftershocks were registered in the first day after the initial massive quake that hit at 8:52 am, one of which had a magnitude of 6.2(a tremor of magnitude six is rated as a "strong" earthquake). Twenty eight occurred with a magnitude greater than five during four days after the principal quake and even eleven days after, there were still major quakes. For example, on 19 October there were a series of strong aftershocks one with a magnitude of 5.8, which occurred about 65 km (40.5 miles) north northwest of Muzaffarabad .
Kashmir lies in the area where the Eurasian and Indian tectonic plates are colliding. This collision began creating the Himalayas 50 million years ago and still continues to raise the Himalayas by about 5 mm/year. The earthquake of magnitude 7.6 in Kashmir on 8 October 2005 earthquake occurred in a region where a great plate-boundary earthquake has long been considered overdue. Although the earthquake resulted in widespread devastation, it is doubful that it has released more than one tenth of the cumulative elastic energy that has developed since the previous great earthquake in the region in 1555 which was preceeded by another earthquake in 1501 of unknown magnitude. Also Himalayan earthquakes are known to trigger others, so one cant rule out the possibility of other shocks to come in future. Kashmir 2005 earthquake occurred near the western end of the Himalayas. Thrust earthquakes here signify the descent of India beneath Tibet. The structure on which the main shock occurred - the Hazara syntaxis - is known to be among the most active in the Himalayas.
Tectonic setting earthquakes occur throught the Indian subcontinent but its probability is more towards the north west.
Most of the affected area in India has its road blocked due to landslide and to top it October 13 saw the commencement of snowfall in the region cutting certain regions off completely from the purview of accessibility for relief work.
As Saturday is a normal school day in the region, most students were at schools when the earthquake struck. Many were buried under collapsed school buildings. Many people were also trapped in their homes and, because it was the month of Ramazan, most people were taking a nap after their pre-dawn meal and did not have time to escape during the quake.
In the Indian-administered Jammu and Kashmir, the injured are being treated at Srinagar's SMHS hospital and the Uri Field Hospital, with many makeshift medical facilities being set up to help the injured. Hundreds of people have been brought in. The Indian Army has efficiently undertaken a key role in coordinating and running relief operations.
Landslides in the region may result in floods in the next few months. This Aster image processed by Eric Fielding shows the 3 km path of a landslide near the epicenter that has over-ridden a facing spur and dammed two tributaries of the Jhelum river. Lakes will grow upstream until the dam is breached. A catastrophic downstream flood may occur should the dam not breach early in reservoir development. International experts have warned the region of potential disease threats including that of measles!
1500 houses were destroyed in our countries Uri district. More 1100 houses were razed to the ground in jammu and Kashmir. The main minaret of the Hazratbal shrine, which houses a relic of the Prophet Muhammad was damaged. The Moti Mahal fort in Poonch district, Kashmir, collapsed.
But life and hope proceed hand in hand. Where something ends something new begins, or at least that’s what we humans love to believe. In the womb of destruction begins the path of creation. So now there has been some miraculous relief work across the borders. Indian soldiers have bravely taken steps to save their Pakistani counterparts forgetting all the enemity- after all there still exists in the valley room for hospitability and humanity.
India has allowed the usage of phone links across the loc for kinfolks to communicate. Both the countries have relaxed the travel restrictions.
The two nations that fell apart in sharing the joy of beauty of gorgeous Kashmir seems to have been united by this natural disaster. What matters is who stands by you in your moment of grief. If the neighbour’s come to each other’s rescue, can anything be better than this. Will this be an end or at least a huge regress for terrorist movements in the land? Will this be an end to the long and far-fetched dispute? Will the valley finally see fresh sunshine in the coming summer next year? Is this a new chapter in the history of peace…when the earth quaked and cracked will the neighbour’s bandage the relationship? Of what good is a piece of land if it cant provide inhabitation and shelter to innocent men? Of what good is that fragment of earth renowned to be paradise if it cannot provide the mere luxury of peace? Is not human life more important than political pride of states?
Questions loom over kashmir’s uncertain future and the unforeseen to be coming its way. Disasters come to test human integrity and the phase pass by. Kashmir too will surely rise from the rubbles to rewrite history of these popular valleys. Destiny definitely has something great in store for it…after all how much more treachourous can be its fate?
On our part as fellows we should stand by the bereaved and by whatever means possible donate.