कैसे भूले

At home. Down with fever. Have nothing to do.Suddenly college memories creep in.The first day of college. Meeting new people. Trying to connect with them. Making friends. But the strongest memories that I will have would never exist without my best friends- Tuhina, Kannagi and Prerna. So here is a poem dedicated to them. Thanks for always being there for me. Love you guys.

याद है वह पहला दिन
हम मिले जिज्ञासु भरे आंखों से
एक दूजे का परिचय देते हुए ।

कैसे भूल सकती हूँ
वो दिन
दोस्ती के कटघरे पर खड़ा करके
मेल-जोल की कोशिश करते रहे ।

कैसे भूल पायेंगे
वो रात
घंटो भर लोगो की खिल्ली उड़ाई
भूख लगते ही दूसरो के दरवाजे खट खटाई ।

कभी न भूल पाएंगे
वो एहसास
जब एक, गालों को मोड़कर बोली-
'अरे मेरी मोटी। तुम बहुत बोलने लगी हो । '

यह तो भूलना मुश्किल है
वो अन्तिम दिन
दूसरी, दौड़कर आते, कसके गले लगकर बोली-
'चक्रो! मुझे छुट्टी मिल गई । '

वो दिन भी महत्त्वपूर्ण रहेंगे
जब परीक्षा के पहले
तीसरी के साथ सीड़ियों में बैठे
गानों पर सिर हिलाते थे ।

भूलें से भी न भूलेंगे
वो दिन
जब हम बहुत झगड़ा करते
और ठीक हो जाने पर रोते हुए गले लग जाते ।

कैसे भूलेंगे यह पल
कैसे लौटेंगे वो दिन
बस यही दुआ करते है मित्र
कि यह दोस्ती हमारी बरक़रार रहे ॥

I am a Writer, not a Journalist

The four weeks of my on-the-job training dawned a realisation in me. The realisation that I am not a journalist but a writer trying to be a journalist. The reasons-

• A journalist writes to sell, a writer writes to express.

• A journalist writes for people, a writer writes for herself/himself.

• A journalist does not have the freedom to write anything and everything. A writer has the creative freedom to write anything.

• A journalist writes what is acceptable, a writer does not care about the acceptability quotient.

• A journalist needs facts, a writer needs inspiration.

• A journalist has to think to write, a writer's account is free flowing.

• A journalist tries to find a 'peg' in everything. A writer just observes.

Hence, I am a writer, not a journalist.

Wandering Part VI

"Where is the might of the pen lost? Wasn't it supposed to be mightier than the sword? Then why has it been replaced by a plastic board of chips, circuits and blocks? Will it be able to fight the same battles as the long stick? The smoothness of the paper has also taken shape into a harsh screen called the monitor which cannot be made ugly by the scribbles of the pen. My handwriting does not define me anymore (as I don't WRITE but TYPE)

Technology really changes the world....

And adds to the nostalgia. "


I type this post and wander.

A Day in my Life

As the evening falls and darkness coats the day, the beauty of the night sky reveals itself. the artificial lights replaces the natural ones and I sitting in the sidewalks of the airport road near my college observe the pandemonia of the crowd and the sounds of the hornsof the speeding cars. It was a long day decorated by my usual cribbing of why I left my dream college and came to this place of shattered visions, forgetting at that moment that this is the place which has given shape to the things that I always wanted to do. The sweet tea at the tapri has been an elixir of energy after the tiring day and the book that I just read neither gave me any inspiration nor the kick to write something. But despite these dilemmas and inhalation of the strong cigarette smoke which my friend was fagging, there was a certain peace around, the sound of silence was faint but filling the blanks which the noise around had left vacant. I was trying to figure out this sound to enjoy the rhythmic nature of this peace. The wind blew the silence as if the sound was coming out of a flute. There was a slight cold wave in the air which was blowing through my dupatta, which made it fly and I experienced a sudden chill in the spine.

I was enjoying this moment. it drifted me away to a different world. I was suddenly unaware of the jokes that my friends were cracking and the lights from the moving vehicle did not blind my eyes as they were doing before. I have often momentarily distanced myself from reality and explored the alternate world that exists around me. But this time it was different. I never experienced this beautiful feeling. it was the feeling of freedom. The world had no chains around it. It had no defined boundaries. Suddenly I realised it was the beauty of independence. I was not dependent on anybody on anything. I could fly in this free world. I could explore any avenue I want. This Pandora world brought new hope to my life. Hopes of achieving new levels of happiness, detaching myself from negative vibrations, reach the zenith where I want to go. The feeling was beautiful; it was nirvana.

Freedom is serene; freedom is peace; freedom is empowerment. That day was my independence day. It was an eccentric, beautiful day in my life.

Wandering Part V

"Why is happiness coupled with sorrow, achievement with failure, love with hatred, peace with violence?

Ma says- 'It's all balancing beta.'

Is it? "

I listen to music and wander.

Life and Death...

It's 11.30 in the morning. The Delhi sky still seems as if its still dawn and the weather is cold. The fish in my aquarium is dying. He is counting his last breath. My 1 day old friend is no more revolving around the aquarium like it was doing yesterday. The other fish is pushing him to play but he is not responding. I gave him food but he did not run to the surface to grab the tiny balls. His tail does not have the beautiful jet shape. It is falling. He is not swimming but floating in water as if waiting for death. Why is death so scary? My heart is beating fast. I can't lose my new friend. I am so helpless. How can someone's life cycle be so short? He has to achieve a lot before leaving this world. He has to win against the other fish who troubles him all the time, steals his food. He can't just leave being so quiet and tolerating others.

As I am wandering, the cell phone vibrates. It brings me to the present moment of noise which is coming from outside. I pick up the phone and my friend with a heavy voice exclaims-

"Riya, there is a bad news. XYZ's dad is no more."

I sit in shock staring at the dying fish. He moves a little showing a ray of life, but finally succumbs to death. I remember my friend talking about his father- how he loved travelling, about his books, how he has influenced his life. And today it's all over. Or maybe he will carry his father's legacy forward and make him immortal in his life and in the lives of the people around him.

Oh! I almost forgot. It's my friend's birthday today. I have to call her as she celebrates 21 years of her life.

Life and Death...It is such a complicated mess...

Rock Paper Scissors...Situation VI

Rock

Coming to terms with age old addictions and the numbness shown by its support elements...

Paper

Realising its weaknesses and trying to erase it...

Scissors

Giving no clues on the next surface its going to cut...

Letter from a daughter to her father...

Dear Dad,
Whenever I was low or cribbed about the little things around me, you often told me about the big bad world. The BIG BAD WORLD which I would be a part of, when I will be old enough to deal with it. The big bad world which was inescapable; which I was always scared of and tried to avoid it. But today I have realized that I have finally succumbed to this hell.

This world is worst than you had explained me. Here people have to be judged before lending a hand for friendship, justifications are to be given for falling in love and one has to prove itself in each and every sphere of situations. Here perceptions are not accepted, rather they are judged.Competitions are a significant part of this world. "Honesty is the best policy" does not hold anymore. Honesty has taken many forms; it is manipulative. Morality is questioned now and then. Standing for one's right is bravery, a rebellion whereas fighting the inner battle is self-obsession, introversion. In this world, some people have all the power to ruin other's lives. Being yourself is being rude while showing fake kindness is being the most nicest person on earth. If somebody sympathisizes at one's problem, they are meant to be his/her true friends while criticizing and pointing someone's negatives are meant to be their foes. Its a world where one's dressing and gestures defines an individual's sexual orientation and the thin line between the orientations is blurred.

Dad, I am still not ready for this world. I have been running away from it but at the same time wanted to be a part of it (you know my intriguing nature). But I promise I will find my way through this maze. I will overcome this hell. You will be proud of me and pat my back. Just pray to give me the strength to fight it.

Your
Ranibeti

Wandering Part IV

"People are like inns in a highway where you take rest for sometime and then go on your own way. At times some inns provide bad service and you feel uncomfortable. Those are the ones who hurt you in life. Who not even for sometime make you happy. Forget them!! We humans are born to grow up with time. There are two sides to a coin. So take the best lesson from it and drain the rest. Thats what we are here for."

I wander while waiting for a friend in some corner of the college...

Happenings

Why this happens to me
I never know
Trying to find the reasons
But they never show.

At times,
Rain is happiness
At times, it is sorrow
At times, things go fine
At times, just bad

Feelings take a different turn
Thoughts just don't seem to stop
Perceptions change with time
Visions grow whenever
Aspirations are high

Why this happens to me
I never know
Trying to find the reasons
But they never show.

Wandering Part III

We don't need to worry about things around us. Let them occur the way it is supposed to be. Why would they influence our lives? Its our life and nobody has the right to influence it except oneself.

I gaze at the revolving fan and wander...

Wandering Part II

"The difference between people living in big cities and small towns is that the people in former setting have no time for themselves. They are busy thinking about what others think about them and how can they face the competition in all spheres of life. On the other hand, people from smaller cities have time for themselves. They think about their dreams, ambitions and what THEY want to do irrespective of what others think. Strange but true."

I observe and I wander...

A Thought

I am disturbed by a thought
A thought that has no base
A thought that has no bounds
A thought
That the mind cannot get rid of

Its a thought
That has led to many thoughts
I try to erase it
I try to divert it

The thought taunts me
Makes fun of my failure
To overcome it

It haunts me
Deprives me of my happiness
I am disturbed by the thought
Save me from it

Dear thought,
What have I done to you?
Why are you after me
Leave me alone
Don't overshadow my musings
I want to live
I want to breathe


But
The thought still kills me
Keeps me hollow from inside
Takes me away from emotions

Please help me,
I am disturbed by a thought
A thought that has no base
A thought that has no bounds.

Wanderings...

Often I have random thoughts which makes me see life in a different light. These are realizations which doom me...makes me wander more...makes me understand the implications of life...

So here I wander-

"I hate nostalgia. It is the proof that there are so many beautiful moments that someone's missing. How we are slaves to time. It passes so fast that it is so difficult to catch up on it. It is like sand in the hand which slips however you want to hold it."

Rock Paper Scissors Situation V

Rock
Amidst beauty and the beast

Paper
Relaxing and running away from monotony

Scissors
Procrastinating

Rock Paper Scissors Situation IV

They are away from each other. A foreign disease have led them apart. But thy are still playing the game and dominating each others life.

Rock
In her mother's lap...Enjoying being away from the hustle and bustle of the life she so at times does not want to be a part of...

Paper
Just drifted away from a new destination...Loved her short stay there(courtesy Scissors)...But right now focussing on the scribbles on her surface...

Scissors
Is clear on where to cut her own as well as others thoughts...But at times trying to connect to a wrong element which Rock and Paper may dislike...

The Hidden World...

CALCUTTA DELHI PUNE

DELHI PUNE CALCUTTA

PUNE CALCUTTA DELHI

Which place do I belong? The place where I have spent the most of my life...or...The place where I was born and presently living...or...The place which has given me the space to indulge in my interests.
Where do I belong?

CALCUTTA

DELHI

PUNE

Alas, I belong to my own world...My own utopia which has been there all my life...Which has no topographical or physical boundaries...Where my thoughts are accepted...Where I am not questioned the way I am...I am the queen of this world...This world defines all my notions and beliefs even if they are baseless...This is the world I belong to...

Thus, I wander in this world of my own...

Who am I?

I wander if I ever have to frame a character sketch of myself, how would it be? What would I write about myself? How would I define myself? Its quite surprising that how we have opinions and views about others but when it comes to ourselves, we are clueless. We become judgemental, try to come to terms with our weaknesses and conceal our shortcomings.

We are scared of the 'I am' quotient, scared to confront the dualities of our lives, scared to be asked "Who am I?"

Scissors Paper Rock...Situation III

This time the game has turned tables. Its not Rock Paper Scissors. But the other way round.The three elements are in battleground. Coming to terms with each other...

Scissors
Searching a steady ground and trying to unravel the situation to find the hidden meaning.

Paper
Can sense the strings are breaking slowly. Wondering whats going wrong? Can things be the same as before?

Rock
She is an inseperable part of the game. Don't back out. Things would turn worse. And she knows it.

Comfortably Numb

This is not the famous Pink Floyd song but the present state of mind I am going through. I AM COMFORTABLY NUMB. Numb to what people say, numb to what people think, numb to what they are doing, numb to their cries, their cribbing about the things around them, numb to what they think about me. I am numb.

Others may disapprove, it maybe a blow to my social life. I don't care. This may seem as a confession or a hate entry on the entire human community that I am a part of or just a 19 year old wannabe who is throwing her 'I don't care' attitude on everyone. But I like this state of denial which I am suffering. It maybe short term but I love it. I am what I am. I don't want to be accepted neither want to accept anyone.

I am living in the 'me' mode, in my own personal space in which I don’t allow anyone to enter. I am in the trance of myself. It may sound as some Paolo Coelho book but that’s how I feel. I am COMFORTABLY NUMB.

The Anonymity of the Unknown...

As I again go to my introspection mode...

This time thinking about people. In my 19 years of life if I think of the number of faces I have come across, damn I would never be able to count it. People with strange facial features, absolutely different personalities, different thought processes and what my advertising prof said- "specifically defined" individuals.

When I walk from my hostel to college everyday, I come across certain "specifically defined" beings, who don't matter anything to me. There are some random acquaintances who I meet everyday yet I would never speak to them or never have any kind of association. Despite any connection with them I do share a certain bonding with them.

When I move out of the hostel, I know there would be some prototypes that I would come across. Just like the kid playing with his ball and the autowallahs waiting to get a customer and ask for lumpsome travelling charges. Then as I walk further and reach the busy streets, I am used to see the lady at 'Rasoi' dhaba serving hot parathas to the home food deprived hoggers, the two friends sitting in the roadside restaurant in their usual corner seat and having gupshup over snacks and not to forget the 'once upon a time' fauji who is now a lunatic swaggering with his typical army air in his style and the guy with everything Indianised and an intriguing panache walking alone in the road with no care and worries on his shoulders [ that what it seems through his walk].

We have our friends, relatives,'known' acquaintances but these are the people who cannot be categorised in any personal chronology. They are persistence of vision and mind which are seen and forgotten and never to be remembered once away from site.
These are the people who in their random nuances and at times the nano moments of eye contact which I often have with them are the ones who are constant in my dynamic rather monotonous life.

It Was Just Yesterday

It seems it was just yesterday
When I started my school
With dad dropping me to my play school
And I
Looking at him with tears in eyes
As if which scaryland is he leaving me.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I stepped in a film theatre
For the first time
Holding mumma's hand
Crying when
The hero dies in the end.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I took my little brother
In my arms
And thought it to be
Another doll that I possess.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I ate handful of salt
And got frightened
That I may turn a cow
As said by my granny.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I left Delhi
And set off to the city of joy
Unknown of
That it would turn my life upside down.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I met my first friend
And believed
We would be together
All our life.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I had my stage performance
With hundreds of eyes
Scanning me
From head to toe.

It seems it was just yesterday
when I felt a strange feeling
Towards a stranger
Spending days and nights
Thinking about him.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I passed 10th grade
And had my first confrontation
With tension and anxiety.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I came back to the capital city
Trying to adjust with
The culture shock
And diverse circumstances.

It seems it was just yesterday
When I joined college
And finally had a taste of
Living away from home
And enjoying my independence days.

And here comes today
When I sit alone
And wander
The evolution of my yesterday.

Rock Paper Scissors...Situation II

They are back together...Caught in the webs of their own world yet inseperable to others web...

Rock
Tired of being rubbed against Scissor's action....Vented out as a melted rock....


Paper
Recycled yet crumpled and scribbled with circumstances, it is unable to resolve....


Scissors
Coming to terms with itself and with its support elements...

College Life- Season 2

A year in college has passed.

15 June 2009, Monday begins the 2nd year in college. Taking college to be a sit-com what are the new features and the unchanged stories that would be seen-

College Life
Season 2

*ing

• The same old 130 students reaching new levels of maturity (or immaturity)
• Introducing the new batch of 130 students ready to experience the Roller Coaster ride.
• The 3 faculty members and some additions (if rumors are to be believed)

Catch the new season of College Life with brand new episodes with old characters back to action and new 130 characters taking a plunge in the world of confusion, love, hate, distress, fun and all that jazz that happens in Symbiosis Institute of Media and Communication.


Coming Soon in the lives of Simcians....

Don't Miss It...

Rock Paper Scissors...Situation I

Rock
In the midst of the dense jungles bearing the heat and the adventures coming its way...

Paper
Crumpled and torn...kept folded in an office diary...waiting to be recycled...

Scissors
Cutting the maps of the country...searching for new avenues to capture in its frame...

The Big Question...

F-R-I-E-N-D, the six letter word that means a lot to everyone. However a person is lonely or introvert, he/she has that special one in his/her life with whom he/she is comfortable. i feel it is the comfort zone which is actually the deciding factor of friendship. But, nobody ever knows what might click between two individuals which blooms into a friendship.
Ok! too much of generalisation...If I think of my friends, still the question that creeps in my mind is who is the one or who are the ones who I can consider my friends and what are the parameters of friendship?Do i really shared the comfort zone that is between two friends? What is it?


The one who wanted me to just do what she considers her friend should do, or, the one who gave me the assurance that she will be there for me always but turned her back just bacause I got better grades than her?


The ones who just included me in their 'solar system' group just because I was standing with them when they were planning to form it, or, the ones who fought for me with their block's puja authorities because I was not allowed to participate in that area's Durga Puja celebrations?


The one who considered me her best friend and was not ready to share me with any other person, or, the one with whom I used to go for long walks and talk about anything and everything until the point we discovered there was an 'unsaid silence' between us all this time?


The one who was my only friend in a class of 60 because everybody other than her took my reserved and introvert nature to be arrogance, or, the one who manages to call me despite living 2600 km away affording long hours of chatting?



The ones who miss me in Kolkata whenever there is a get-together, or, the ones who I meet only during festivals and special occasions?


The ones with whom I love to be with because of our foolish acts we often do, or, the ones who brought some fashion sense into me and shared their relationship diaries?


The ones who don't want to have any attachment with me except when it comes to borrowing accessories and clothes, or, the ones with whom nothing connects but still we share a strong bonding just like two magnets being attracted towards each other?

Delhi Belly

My internship in Delhi has led me to travel 3 hrs in public transport and not in the luxurious confines of my car. Its been 3 years that I have left Kolkata, the place where I have breathed the most wonderful times of my life but these 3 hrs has brought me closer to the city as ever. As in the morning bus no.717 covers the Qutub Minar which stands tall as the statue of liberty in US to the huge education centre Jawaharlal Nehru University. At times I take another route that leaves me to IIT, the dream college of millions of Indians. That’s a treat for the eyes early in the morning despite getting stuck in the traffic jams at office hours. Delhi traffic jams are very different from the usual ones. The car doesn’t stop at a point but keeps on moving and it is interesting to see how the vehicles move through the winding roads in spite of the diversions due to the construction work going on since time immemorial. Delhiites are used to it. I wonder what will happen when all these diversions will no more be there. Roads would seem like runways as the eyes are so used to the usual narrow lanes. In the evening while coming back home I experience the other side of Delhi, the beauty of Delhi which has often been talked about. Siri Fort Auditorium, Lodhi Gardens, Dilli Haat, Indian Heritage Centre, Humayun Tomb,India Gate, Rashtrapati Bhavan , Akashvani Bhavan till the point I reach Janpath where my Delhi darshan ends. What a sight it is!!! I marvel the wonderful city which I previously hated and think how wrong I was. One fine day after coming back from office I went to Old Delhi and explored the entire Delhi 6 area. Delhi 6, contrary to the modern and developed avenues of New Delhi breaks all the stereotypes of Delhi being hep and happening. The ancient buildings, the narrow lanes, wires spreading here and there as if scars made on the surface of the sky, markets bustling with people, the pandemonium of sounds of vehicle horns and the loudspeakers crying the verses recited by the Jama Masjid priest and the Red fort only spell of Delhi in historical times . No wonder despite so many malls and other commercial areas coming up and the government’s continuous efforts of changing Delhi into New York or Paris, filmmakers and authors capture this part of Delhi where development is only seen in the McDonalds outlet in Chandni Chowk (it does look very out of place). Old Delhi is the preserver of the heritage and the homogenous culture that is long lost in the web of changing times. Delhi is like a kaleidoscope, it may seem to be just a piece of glass but more you look deeper you can see its different colours and how they change from one part to another. Someone needs time to understand the complexities of this place although people are the easiest reflections that can be recognized in mirrors of time. Punjabis with their tales of show offs, Idli dosa and the chain of Annapurna hotels of the south Indians, Bengalis and their huge conversations in Bengali even if the third person cannot understand a word, UPites and their inclination towards hindi culture and literature, Northeasterns carrying all the latest fashion on the streets; Delhi has it all.

The Awakening Part II

With the elections round the corner, there is a lot of hustle and bustle all around the country. Politicians have come out of their white houses and promising flying castles and forts to the common man. On the other hand, people are finally seeing the MLAS and MPs they had voted five years ago. Where had they been? And what about the development they had promised? No answers.

The blame game is as usual on. But yes there has been an awakening of a new kind. Youth are finally realising the importance of voting and are ready to participate in the coming elections. Internet is being seen as the harbinger of this change as organisations like Jaagore.com are taking initiatives to include as many young voters in the voters' list. Kudos to them!!

There also has been an army of young politicians in the battlefield this time. Although majority of them belong to the royal political families [Rahul Gandhi, Sachin Pilot, Milind Deora, Jyotiraditya Scindia and many others] but there are many middle-aged[note not young but middle aged; a relief from the grandfather aged politicians] people who are standing as independent candidates. Hope they win. My best wishes and my vote to them.

So India's democratic nature is being reflected which is a respite from the fact that people are aware what is happening in the country. But the main question still remains whether it will lead to the grand renaissance which the country is still yearning for. The 'near' utopia dream is still alive in the hearts of the citizens and these elections will again be a test of times of whether this vision will be attained in the next five years.

Viva La India...

Rock Paper Scissors

Most of us have played this simple game of rock paper scissors at some point of our lives...the simple game of luck...Many made decisions according to this game...For some it is just a timepass during boredom...But has anybody ever thought that it can define personalities of people...Thats what happened with three people who come from different walks of life, different places but when they come together they merge like the game of Rock Paper Scissors...

Rock Paper Scissors...What does three of these elements denote...Have you ever given a thought??...

Rock
Tough...Street Smart...Headstrong...stand against odds...Idealistic...confident

Paper
Smooth...Quiet...Patient...Observer...Reserved...Practical...calm

Scissors
Sharp...Straightforward...moody...unpredictable...exuberant...

I have come across the unison of these three personalities who despite being different,unlike the elements complement each other. They promise to be together in the arduous times ahead. As I observe their kaleidoscopic life as an onlooker, I dwell that how this game of Rock Paper Scissors turns out to be...

Sumthin of a mocktale....

10 days and a significant part of college will be over...as in college terms the 2nd semester and for the students a year in the life of SIMC...Sitting near the library suddenly thought of writing the equation that best defines SIMC...

SIMC as a college with a difference can be put into a formula of C5A where

C stands for
CONNECT[with people] {thats what people were trying to do in the 1st semester}
COMMUNICATE [something that does not exist in college]
CONVERGE [the commonly used jargon]
COG IN THE WHEEL [a term which a certain Mr.Goswami has imbibed in us]
CREDIT HOGGERS [you will find in plenty in here]

A stands for
Amalgamation [the much hated word in the premises!]

All this and much more jazz is the essence of this "premier" media institute..Following are the do's and dont's which a SIMCian should always keep in mind...

DO's
1. Always keep in mind the C5A formula.
2. To prove yourself, make a movie. [Ripping and Plagiarism is always invited]
3. Take SIMC as a roadies show. [Thats the best way to survive]{you like splitsville...o that is invited too}
4. If you think you have the qualities of a politician. Don't let it go waste. Use it to your fullest potential.
5. Have an opinion of everything. [However useless and illogical it is]
6. Talk in generalised terms. People love it. [the only way lectures can be understood here]
7. Deprived of sleep? MINDROOM 501 can provide you with the most comfortable mattresses in town.[and lullabies too]
8. If in Section B...do argue and deliberate.
9. Love the staircase. [you have to climb 104 steps if there is a power cut]
10. Try to understand the group dynamics of the "defined" groups.
11. Have an artistic inclination? explore it. [you'll get ample time for it during lectures]

DONT's
1. Miss college in the first month. [it will surely screw your attendance and much dilemma comes in the latter half]
2. Mess up with the administration. [SIMC is actually under them]
3. Have a valid point during lectures. Please don't speak up. [nobody would entertain]
4. Do not enter the lift if there are people less than 15. [ that is the official record till now]
5. Don't be the change. Rather change yourself.
6. Finally,don't forget your ipods and cellphones. [you'll need them during lectures]

Morality or desire...What would you choose??

The oscar nominated movie The Reader touches a very sensitive topic that dwelves into every individual's mind at one point of time i.e. how can someone draw the line between morality and desire? Who dictates the moral ethics in the society? Morality in simple terms can be stated as an act which is accepted in the society. Desire is what is acceptable to an individual although it may not be morally correct. This battle between society and individual has long been fought and exists as a cold war in everyone's life. Our every action is governed by society. We modify it according to the standards of the community we live in. But what about our desire? Desires are not monitored or governed by anyone. Not even by the person itself. In Freudian terms,id vs. ego is what drives a human being.

The strongest and the most "sacrilege" topic in Indian society is the most obvious three letter word SEX. It is the most desired instinct in individuals designed by the hormonal reactions in the body. But moral when you indulge in it after abiding by the rituals of matrimony. Immoral sex is like red tapism. All done under the table unless there is a sting operation and you are caught red-handed.There are also many dimensions to it. As in the movie, a 15 year old having sex with a 40 year old...not admissible; self stimulated sex [masturbation]...still not right; sex with the same sex...OH MY GOD!!But these things happen right under the nose of the society gurus and knowingly been ignored. It is at this point where the cold war is favourable towards morality as everything said and done, rules broken, desire being satisfied but we are not going to spread the word as we are "moral" members of our society and cannot see our coming generation being driven by their ids rather than ego.

You may think what is this woman writing!! Has she lost her mind!! I know its funny but this is the truth which deep in our hearts everybody accepts. The chastity of a woman and the potency of a man is questioned by this contention. We judge people on the basis of this notion. Finally the question arises,ultimately who will be the winner between the two? There is no answer to it. Rather it is an open-ended question to which further demur would be added from time to time. What we can do is just listen to it or read and write about it as we are the masters of our psyche and can judge the best.

An ode to my most special friends...

The following poems I had written when I was leaving Kolkata...Jilly and Madhurima are the two very special friends for me...Adding these poems in my blog I just want to let them know how much I love them and miss them...

For Jilly:-

I know a girl
Sweet,charming and pretty
I cant find any words to define her
For my eyes speaks all about her
I want to be her good friend
(Which i dont't know whether I am or not)
But in turn she became my best friend

We had joy, we had fun
We had seasons in the sun
But her chatting about Riddhiman and Mayukh
Are like the seasons have all gone

We have departed
Like a baby from its mother
And never know whether we can spend those precious moments again
But still I want to say her
That "Jilly jaisi koi nahi"

She is one who made my days more brighter
My nights more sweeter
My happiness more happier
Whenever I was sad
She is the one who made me smile
She is the one who inspired me
To live a life full of zeal and style

I don't know whether this poem appeals her or not
But the only thing I can say is
'Jilly, Jilly please don't cry
You can forget me by and by'
But I will never forget you
Even when there are
Beautiful moments in my life
Coz I want to experience those
With you by my side

For Madhurima:-

Oh my friend
How will I live without you
I want you not your letters
I want you not your words
Each minute
Each second
I remember the days
That we have spent together
When i joined the group
It was you who always comforted me
Whenever I saw you
I felt I am not alone
I have somebody
Whom i can adore
Your friendship is the most beautiful gift
I can ever get

I yearn for the days
Which have gone
Which brought us together
And made us the bestest of friends
Please remain as you are
The pretty, chirpy and charming
Madhurima

MUSIC

What is music?
Has anybody given a thought?
A writer’s words
Or a lover’s ballad
A mother’s lullaby
Or a child’s cry

What is music?
Can anybody tell me?
The beauty of resonance
Or the voice of hatred
A maiden’s dream
Or the victory song

What is music?
As I wonder
A tribute to the martyrs
Or the dancing tunes
Prayer to the God
Or the bustling traffic sounds

Music
As I listen
I think
What is music?