anything under the sun

2011-01-26T04:13:00.000-08:00

Deja vu

floating faces

fleeting moments,

held by silken threads

love, passion pain, excuses, lies, betrayals.

the symphony of life.

a resonance within

of deja vu.

floating faces

fleeting moments,

trail

a pathway to remembrance

2011-01-26T04:10:00.000-08:00

Sands Of Time Run

hope of golden morning

turns muddy yellow,

as the sands of time drop

hour after hour.

the purple passion of noon

turns icy gray,

as the darkness of solitude invades

hour after hour.

the copper chrome cravings of evening

turns frozen red,

as the vortex of pain sweeps

hour after hour.

2011-01-26T04:04:00.000-08:00

Reminiscence

Memories are like golden threads, woven round the soul.
They are like tiny droplets of mists,
Hanging from the evergreen foliage of time.
We collect them drop by drop,
Rainbow reflecting from the core of their heart.
It's the little bit of life's anodyne,
Left to heal our soul in the loneliness of ageing day.
They become the lovely poetry of life,
Lulling the pulsating ache of nostalgia.
They free our spirit from the corporal cage,
Lift our amorphos soul to the level of eternity.
And--we drink from these rivulets of memories.
The chalice, becoming the elixir of life.

2010-03-15T05:13:00.001-07:00

Life is a Short Incident in a Long Story

They say, there is a story in everyone......

However cliche it might sound, but it's true. Throughout my life I have met people who had left indelible impression on my mind. When I look back down the memory lane, it seems each of them narrated their story to me and I can recount the pangs, the joys, the hopes and the pains of life through them. Sometime, I wonder, why I haven't thought of putting pen to paper to narrate those tales. But then, some memories are better when kept private and personal. So I have always fumbled, wavering between how much to write and what to leave out.

Lately, I reached a crossroad in life where I didn't know which road to take. The road less traveled or the one trodden by thousands. Eventually, I decided to take the middle one, a grassy, moss laden, cobbled path trodden by some, who sought truth, solace and bliss in unknown, but at the same time, kept their feet on solid ground of reality. Confused? I don't blame you. For, I have been searching for the soul so long that I lost track of my time. I wandered in the mazes of life's duty and forgot what I was seeking. Isn't it time for me to stake out?

I have decided to narrate the story.......the story in you, me, them, and whoever.....

2009-09-26T18:23:00.000-07:00

Ok Folks!!!!!!! Time for a new series.........
My Jersey Diaries begin.
Jersey Diary 1
I landed in Hotel Sierra on Route 22, NJ, on a sunshine swept Saturday afternoon . It was 7 o'clock but the sun was still strong on our back. The Hotel front offfice was really nice. Max is a dream!
I was sooooo tired I just wanted to sleep. After refreshing myself with an hot bath I went down to the lobby to receive my friend Savitha who will be arriving from Bangalore. I settled her in and had Maggi for Dinner.
Next day, I had a taste of the American mall when my uncle tok me to a nearby mall. Its huge!!!! I got my grocery shopping done.
I started on work on Monday. The day went well and a colleague dropped us home.
My collegues are really nice!!!
The week went well. We have to reach office early here. So one of our colleagues took the responsibility of picking us up. And we work Fridays from the Hotel. The only significant thing is we went to a Japanese restaurant and I had Shrimp tempura. They are really huge.
The first weekend is neally boring. You are stranded here if you don't drive a car. So there goes my freedom of moving around!
Cokesbury is a small county. It has lots of greenery. The fall colours are coming up! But you can't move much from here. Everyday I feel stranded because I am not driving a car!!!!!
Gosh!

2009-07-04T11:04:00.000-07:00

Plagiarism in Hindi film music

Plagiarism in music is long prevailant and rampant in our Hindi film music. It has been that way since the initiation of Hindi film starting with SD Burman and reaching its glory with composers like RD Burman, Laxmikant Pyarelal, Rajesh Roshan, Shankar-Jaikishan, O.P Naiyar, Salil Choudhary, Kalyanji-Anandji, and Bappi Lahiri. Most of the music composed by these composers were either plagiarized tunes or inspired by some foreign tunes. Sometimes the copied songs are intelligently and subtly modified while in some cases it is a blatant complete tune and even beat to beat copy. The catch is, all these plagiarized music became hits and became rage among the masses. In those times, before the era of television, the Indian masses hardly had access to foreign music or even music in English. The popular culture was to listen to Hindi film music and hum along. But they hardly knew that most of the hummable tunes are copied.

How many people know that SD Burman copied Jeevan ke safar mein raahi for the film Munimji from the song The Mexican hat dance? The great songs in the film Chalti ka nam Gadi, 'Ek ladki bheegi bhagi si' is inspired by the song 'Sixteen Tons' , while 'Hum the woh thi' is inspired by the song 'The Watermelon song', both by Tennessee Ernie Ford. Even Yeh dil na hota from Jewel Thief was inspired by the song River Kwai March from the soundtrack of the David Lean classic, The Bridge on the River Kwai. And finally, Saala main tho sahaab ban gaya is lifted directly off a 1957 Italian track, 'Chella Llà', by the legendary Renato Carosone.

RD Burman composed great music for Hindi cinema but his immensely popular song Mehbooba, mehbooba from Sholay is a direct copy. How many of us know that the song is a direct lift from Demi Roussos' Say You Love Me? Same can be said about the opening tune and the lovely harmonica tune played by Amitav from Sholay which were plagiarized from Mackanna'a Gold. RD was an immensely gifted musician and he kept track of world music with a penchant. That is how he used the tunes from English songs and transformed them to gold in Hindi films. Infact, he is the pioneer in this field of plagiarism.Though he gave us wonderful music in all his films, but it still remains a fact that he lifted. Do not forget the immensely popular songs from Hum Kisise kam Nahi, which has several lifted tunes from the popular band Abba's music.

Laxmikant Pyarelal lifted tunes for the film Rajkumar. 'Payaal Meri' is a good version of George Michael's Faith! And 'Tere Naam Ke Hum Deewane' from Judaai is a beat to beat copy from Boney M's 'Brown Girl in the ring'. OP Naiyar copied 'Yeh hai bombay meri jaan' for the popular film CID from 'My darling Clementine' by Freddy Quinn. And believe it or not, the Geeta Dutt number 'Babuji dheere chalna' is a direct lift from the song 'Perhaps perhaps perhaps' covered by Doris Day.

Salil Choudhary was more intellectual in his plagiarism. He mostly lifted tunes from the symphonies of Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach. His popular Hindi number 'Itna Na Mujhse Tu Pyar Bada' is inspired from Mozart's 40th symphony and the famous 'Dil tadap tadap ke' song from Madhumati is inspired by the Polish folk song "Szla dzieweczka do gajeczka". All the songs by this composer has been improvised to a large extent to suit the exuberant mood of both the films and the tracks.

The RD mantle is justly worn by Bappi Lahiri who lifted tune after tune to create hit songs. Don't forget the immensely popular 'Tamma Tamma Loge' and 'Mera dil gaye ja' from Disco dancer. By that time several people knew that he copied generously from English tunes of Modern Talking. His 'Hari Om Hari' is a copy of 'One Way Ticket to Moon' and 'Sochna Kya' in Ghayal has been copied from 'Lambada'. Though he has the title of disco king, the first composer to introduce disco beats in hindi music, the fact remains that he is still a plagiarist and has maximum hit plagiarized songs to his credit.

The music scenario has not changed a bit after Nadeem Shravan, Ram Laxman, or Anu Malik came into the picture. All of them fell back, at various stages of their career, to outside music as their inspiration. The popular Stevie Wonder number 'I Just called to say I love you' was copied in the hit film 'Maine Pyar Kiya' by Ram Laxman and became a rage of the generation. Almost all songs of Qayamat se Qayamat tak has been copied tunes. So has Anu Malik's lifts from 'Macarena' and 'Les Ketchup' as well as the Arabic and Lebanese tunes in the film Murder. And the opening portion of his immensely popular song 'Sandeshe Aate hai' in the film Border is inspired from 'With A little help From my friends' by Beatles. One good thing about Anuji is that he listens to tunes in foreign languages and gets inspired. And we must acknowledge that the songs are real hits and hummed by the generation. Nadeem Shravan's speciality was mostly soft english numbers from 50's and 60's english pop. They are the ones who introduced many of the Cliff Richard numbers in Hindi films, of course in its version.

And now there is this whole lot of GenX composers like Pritam, Vishal Sekhar, Salim Suleiman who practices the same cult left as a legacy by their predecessors. Pritam especially tries to bring in a newness to plagiarism by copying the music of regional songs and music bands. He bought Bangladesh singer James to sing many of his own songs in hindi as well as some from songs of Bangla bands. As Pritam says, "I told myself: ‘Don’t touch an English song since people have heard it’. I thought it would be better to be inspired by obscure songs without realising that the Internet has made the world smaller and even the most obscure song can easily be traced".

Lastly, our very own oscar winning music maestro AR Rahman has composed the song immensely popular 'Shakalaka Baby' inspired by the rhythm loop with an underground feel found in the track 'Flight IC 408' by State of Bengal and the track 'Aint talkin bout dub' by Apollo 440. And most of his Tamil hits are inspired by music from Africa, Osibisa, and Lebo M to name a few.

Lifting tunes is a trend one can't do away in Bollywood. Getting inspiration to compose fresh for every project is tiresome and difficult. The musicians too get music blocks (like writer's block). These English/foreign tunes act as saviours for them in those crisis hours of deadpan phases.

I am not condemning these musicians and composers, as the songs they copy have all become hits and rage among masses. Since the exposure to world music is still very little for the common masses, at least the public is exposed to some good music through these plagiarized versions.

2009-06-05T08:15:00.000-07:00

Old is Gold

What is it with old friends? When you hear their voices, something in your heart flutters; there is a steady hum of old songs in your mind, and you are suddenly filled with a sense of happiness. I received a call in my mobile........a long distance call from my friend Supriyo from across the seas. We were in school together and not exactly that close I must say. He became closer when he was engaged to one of my best friends. But when I heard his voice after such a long time, my heart leapt with joy. And the other day Abhiru caught me in gtalk. He was in Shanghai, getting bored and searching for someone to talk. We chatted for almost an hour and re-lived those old days.

It's suddenly raining old friends. I talked to Reema over the phone. She is in US and is thinking of coming back to India. We talked about old friends and school days. And then I got a scrap from Tanay asking me if I am the same Shyamali from his batch of '89. and he also caught me in gtalk.

It's wonderful to have those old friends back in life. They are our true teasures.

I must owe all this to Orkut. Since last year I have found many long lost friends through it. I found Reema, Bilu, and Swati. Today I found Tanay who was the numuro uno bichhu of the class. And then Abhiru, Supriyo, Anirban and NP Singh. The list seems to be growing by days.

Life is really worth exploring........................everyday!

2009-05-31T00:35:00.000-07:00

Background: Violence against Indian students in OZ. Within the last couple of days there has been rampant violence against the Indian students in Australia and many accuses these act of violence to racism.

I thought I would add my contribution to this flame war. My personal account.

I have never been a student in Oz. But last year, I had an opportunity to stay there for quite sometime and mingle closely with the people over there. I have seen how they behave with foreigners, especially people from asian countries like India and Pakistan.

Before landing in Oz many of my colleagues had warned me about this racism and I just laughed it away. I am going there on work, will stay there for a considerable amount of time, and will work closely with the Aussies.

But I started feeling a strong vibe of racism as soon as I landed in my hotel. The staff at the reception made me wait for at least 10 minutes though there was no other guest there. It was quite late at night and I had a long travel. When they finally handed me the keys to my room, they didn't even direct me to the floor and no one helped me with my luggage. I was hungry and had to make a phone call home to let my parents know about my safe arrival. I rang up the hotel reception to help me out with the phone call. The instructions written on the chart beside the telephone seemed too complicated for my fatigued brain. But they refused quite rudely. I finally figured out after much fumbling and was successfully able to connect to my parents. They were dead worried and the phone call was a relief for them. I thought of ordering room service but once again the reception people refused to help saying the room service is closed. It was a long night ahead and I was really hungry. So I called up the restaurant I had seen next door to the hotel. They immediately took the order and delivered room service. Thank god I survived!

I stayed in the hotel for two weeks till I shifted to my own apartment. And believe me or not, I received the same treatment throughout. Mine was a service apartment kind of a suit with facility for cooking. When I saw some of the cooking bowls provided by the hotel were chipped, cracked or broken at the edges, I requested the staff to change them. I explained to them that using these utensils in microwave can be harmful and carcinogenic. Well I got only one bowl changed, that too after a week, when the manager or one such executive came to check the room and I politely explained him the situation. But the funny part is, at the time of settling the bills, they billed me for a bowl saying I had broken it and that's why they had to replace it. The matter got settled though but I will never forget the way they behaved with me. Will you call it racism?

The next incident happened when I was returning from the office one day. I had to take a bus to my residence and was waiting for one at the bus stand. I was first on the queue and was reading my evening paper leaning against the post. The bus arrived and the driver opened the door. I stepped my right leg on the front foot board ready to get in. Suddenly, to my horror, the driver was closing the automated door on my leg and it got trapped. I was feeling the pain. I shouted and gestured at the driver to open the door. Behind the glass door he made rude gestures and when I was about to shout out for help, the door swung open. There was a volley of abuse inflicted on me. The driver shouted saying it would serve me right for getting into the bus first. I was so visibly shaken and humiliated I couldn't say anything. It wasn't even a month I had been there. Now I believed what they meant by racism. To top it all, none of the people standing behind me in the queue protested.

I would put these as sporadic incidents of racism which is not the usual behavior of the Aussies. They are a good race. People are usually very friendly. Some of my good friends now are the Aussie colleagues I worked with. I had a great land lady.But that doesn't mean I have not had my dose of racial discrimination in the office. A few of my colleagues ensured I had a very harrowing time. Their derogatory and insulting remarks and behaviour made me feel miserable in the first two months. It's only when I proved my capability (that was way above them) and the somewhat benevolent liking that the Program Director and the Implementation Lead bestowed on me that they amended their attitude. But I could feel the negativity till the last day. Even on the roads and shops there is an undercurrent of racism. Even if people are nice and friendly but drunken violence, and stray abuses inflicted on the Asians are rampant. I never ventured late in the evening as I was advised not to do so. The reason -- violence meted against the Asians.

I don't know how to put in words and whom to support in this hour of crisis. On one hand, I had wonderful time with my Aussie colleagues and still share great rapport with them. All of them are willing to get me back to Oz, so much so, that they even asked me to migrate. On the other hand, it's true that you are treated like a second class citizen and made a victim of racial discrimination.

But we also have to try to blend with them and their a culture a little. In that way, we will be much tolerant towards them.

Let's hope this spate of violence ends soon and let these be sporadic incidents and not repeated in future.

Australia is a great country to live and to work. Some people should not make outsiders unwelcome just by demonstrating their rowdiness and parochial behaviour.

2009-05-23T03:23:00.000-07:00

Campus Novels: A new sub-genre in Indian English fiction

The corpus of Indian English fiction has been expanding rapidly in the last few years. Modern Indian fiction in English is exploring several new genres and sub-genre which is considered to be a healthy trend. It is no longer about colonial and post-colonial hangovers; neither concentrates on the anthropological, socio-economic or political canvas of the country. It is more urban and modern, exploring themes as varied as aspirations of modern youth, their achievements and frustrations, career stories, contemporary social trends, quest for urban roots, living life as a single woman in big cities, exploring sex and alternative sexuality and middle class Indian dreams set in the background of completely different characters and locales. There are many new players in the industry and writers are more experimental. A young brigade of writers is now carving a niche in the world of India’s new-age fiction, churning out corporate novels, thrillers, chick-lits and campus novels to name a few sub-genres. The books produced by this generation are "not about partition, or the Emergency, or three-generational family sagas written in Oxford English. Instead, the topics are populist and contemporary (college, finding a job, looking for love) and the English is as unpretentious as a call-centre cubicle. At the same time, these novels still do what novels have always done: serve as guides in a confusing world”, says New Delhi literary agent Renuka Chatterjee. "Suddenly, everything has changed so much," says novelist Namita Gokhale. "So people use these books to try to find where they're located in all this." And that has made the new pop fiction a runaway success. They have also been helped additionally by the low price tag and the high end distribution channel. Also, out-of-the-box marketing has been the new game plan. Another big change in Indian writing is that it is no longer dependent on approval by the West. The new authors talk exclusively to an Indian audience. In fact, a Western audience would not be able to comprehend the slang and similes used in their books. The Western audience is not in focus anymore. Indians want to read about themselves and write like they talk.

Recent trend has shown that campus novels sell well in India. Campus novel is a novel, usually comic or satirical, in which the action is set within the enclosed world of a university (or similar seat of learning) and highlights the follies of academic life. Campus novels exploit the closed world of the university setting, with characters inhabiting unambiguous hierarchies. They may describe the reaction of a fixed socio-cultural perspective (the academic staff) to new social attitudes (the new student intake).These novels may be simplistic, obvious, even banal, but is, perhaps, the most accurate description of campus life set in the country’s famed colleges and universities. These novels are managing a mix critical acclaim with commercial success. Most college novels have simple narratives and are spun around study pressures, social integration and a romantic twist. They have a comic undertone and deal with issues that college goers have often faced.

The university is a kind of microcosm of society at large, in which the drives and conflicts of life in the street outside are displayed and may be studied in a cool, detached way. Hence, campuses across the country have become a fertile ground for fiction. Most of these novels are based on first hand experience of the writers and hence exudes an authenticity. They might not be entirely factual and might often contain exaggerated situations, but most of the readers can relate to them in some way or other. At this point, we have to keep in mind the huge reader base of urban youth (the MTV generation mostly) who are ‘neo readers’ and take to books as a source of light-hearted reading at the end of a tiring day. These include college goers and those who wish to attend those campuses. These novels are also a success among the alumni fraternity who reads these novels for a sense of déjà vu and an alluring measure of nostalgia. All elements of college life like hostel humour, bad food, nicknames, depression, frustration at failures, manipulations, college romance, action, intrigue and friendship are woven into these stories.

The trend of campus novels, started with the phenomenal success of Chetan Bhagat’s Five Point Someone, which is claimed to be a bestseller having sold a million copies worldwide. This is a campus novel following three best friends at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) in New Delhi. It is a fun book but also taps into the pressures facing students at India's élite educational institutions. Chetan Bhagat's big contribution to Indian publishing has been to bring out a whole segment of readers that publishers had traditionally believed never existed, the college and high school students, the under-25s, who would rather buy a pizza or go disco-dancing than spend money on a book. It might also have earned itself a place in the history books as the trigger for a trend that might have shaken up the Indian publishing industry.

Close to Bhagat’s heel is Abhijit Bhaduri’s Mediocre But Arrogant, a campus novel set in the ‘Management Institute of Jamshedpur’, from where his hero graduates to land his first job in HR. The book is written in a lucid tone, interspersed with comic overtures, in class notes style. Harishdeep Jolly, an alumnus of IIM Bangalore is the author of Everything You Desire: A Journey Through IIM, a book, which deals with the issues of career and relationships. Joker in the Pack by IIM alumni Ritesh Sharma and Neeraj Pahlajani is another novel set in IIM campus. Karan Bajaj’s Keep Off the Grass is a novel that revolves around a Indian American investment banker who, in order to find his roots in India, joins the IIM and undergoes a mix of bizarre experiences -- smoking marijuana, travelling to Dharamsala, selling soaps and shampoos in Benaras and the likes.

Above Average by Amitabha Bagchi is a campus novel that traces the journey of Arindam Chatterjee, a middle class Delhi boy to IIT, Delhi, where life revolves around proving mathematical truths and chasing elusive high of rock stardom and campus fests. It’s a funny account of growing up years in campus as an intelligent, sensitive, ambitious and confused persona, all of which a modern day youth can relate to. Amitabha Bagchi says young Indians want to read about themselves "not entirely as an act of narcissism but also as part of a process of adapting to, and learning to live in, a social milieu that is evolving faster than most people can comprehend." Tushar Raheja’s debut novel Anything For You Ma’am: the love story of an IITian is another book that deals with the IIT campus. He claims it is a book on his life and friends. Sachin Garg’s A Sunny Shady Life is a novel about Sunny Singh who is a student at DCE (Delhi College of Engineering) and his engineering life. The book is essentially about the curiosity, the randomness, the entropy of highest order which a young mind goes through.

Bombay Rains Bombay Girls by Anirban Bose breaks free from the ground of setting novels in premiere IIT and IIM campus. It is set up in a medical school where Adi, a small town eighteen year old with a giant inferiority complex comes to study medicine. The author spins a fantastic yarn of campus life with bunch of quirky characters, campus ragging and campus politics, together with the challenge of learning the mysteries of human anatomy, discovering love and heartbreaks and interpreting new meanings of friendship.

There are campus novels set in the famous university campuses like the one in JNU. Sumthing of a Mocktale by Soma Das, a former post-grad student at the university is a book that takes a look at JNU politics and culture that is characterized by jeans, kurta and jhola. Srividya Natarajan’s novel No Onions nor Garlic is set in the University of Chennai campus and becomes the hub around which the story revolves. The story is presented in a hilarious manner and lampoons the academic world of the English department. In a true Wodehousian tradition, Natarajan has presented quirky, humorous characters, plots and sub-lots building up to an amazing climax in true Indian movie tradition. Also worth mentioning here is Tin Fish by Sudeep Chakravarti. Set in the elite Mayo College boarding school in Rajasthan, this novel has been publicized as a school story. Funny, wry and sad by turns it takes you through the pre-teen and teenage years of Barun Ray, the narrator. Three Makes a Crowd by Kaushik Sirkar is on hostel life at Dehradun’s Rashtriya Indian Military College. It’s a story of three friends and their escapades at IMA.

The uncompromising modernity of this type of new writing is so uplifting. Indian pop fiction might be banished to second-class status by critics, says Bhagat, "but it's not that to the people who read it." For them, it tells the stories of their own lives, and looks ahead to India's thrilling if uncertain future. That sums it all up. Campus novels are here to play a long innings. And the best deal of this entire new sub-genre of Indian English fiction is that reading is slowly getting back in fashion in India.

2008-11-30T05:56:00.000-08:00

I will be writing about my Brisbane days, experience, and observations in bits and pieces.This is the first instalment.

My Days in Brisbane

Part 1

Night turn into morrow and its a whole new day. Only I follow the same mundane routine.

I drag myself from bed every morn with the thoughts of mundane chores like making breakfast, what to have for lunch and what are the tasks that awaits me in the drab office.No good wishes, no prayers, no hopes and cheers either. I pack my bags, and walk downhill to a city which seems already busy at 7.40 in the morning. People scurrying, hurrying and worrying.
I feel so out of place.
The office is a clinical, old, non existent building among thousand others which smell of morning coffee and sweaty corridors.There is no joy in the gloom.Can't even find an iota of that in the remotest corner.And I slog.Slog almost 10 hrs a day or more. Sometimes I feel like an ox dragging a useless load on my back.Am I the modern day version of Mrs. Thurlow?

I am sure the city has some joy to offer, some magical moments, some mysteries which has yet remained elusive to me. We are still in a stage of first acquiantance. Will it accept me with time? With clenched teeth and aching legs I try to mingle in the crowd, going home in the evening. I pick up the evening newspaper like every other person on move, hold it at an angle, read it while waiting for the bus and try to blend in. But alas! My aching heart yells out: This is not where I belong.This is not what I want to do.Go back in a non descript bus to a non descript apartment filled with silence.

A time to kill. And a long wait. My destiny.In a new world.

Part 2

In the mad scheme of this new city, I observe people.And it's so interesting to observe their idiosyncracies.Total time pass I would say.

Almost 60% of the population seems to be dominated by the chinkies i.e the south east asians from Phillipines, Hongkong, China and Korea.They are everywhere swarming like bees. In hotels,in banks, in shops, in universities, in restaurants,in offices and as vagabonds.They move in groups, eat and sleep in groups, speak strange lingo, half english half chang chung and dominate the city. There is a China town which is a mini china in the heart of Brisbane. Remind me of Tangra! Even the shops have chinese signs painted on them there.I see no reason why the Aussies won't soon adopt Chinese as their second national language.

The rest of the poulation are Aussies with a handful of Indians. mostly gujjus, thrown in like chaff.

The women here are either very tall, sexy and beutiful or very tall and very fat. You can get a complex both ways, superior or inferior, depending on your girth. They are mostly stylishly dressed though, wearing labels you can sport like Gucci, Prada and likewise. The men, comparitively, dress sloppily.And, whether its rain or shine, they will sport a dark glass and wear ear phones. Strange obsessions! I recently heard in a TV interview that half the Aussie population is going deaf due to this obsession with ear phones.

Now, some interesting observations on road.

I saw an elderly couple, early morning, wearing identical jeans and Tees, holding hands walking with the crowd. CUT

In a street corner, early morning, around 7.30, a man and woman, hugging and kissing, making a much fanfare, and walking away in opposite directions without even throwing a glance at each other. So much for relationship..........SIGH.

In a rain soaked afternoon, a girl, wearing shorts and vest, umbrella over head, holding a water bottle, running on the wet, slippery rain drenched road. Such devotion to sports!

A man carrying a pair of boots peeping from the laptop bag stuffed with god knows what! He is wearing jogging shoes to work.

A woman changed from her work clothes to shorts and vest and cycled down the road. Saving fuel.

A single girl, in the apartment across the road to mine,sits in the same place from morn to night, eyes fixed on the laptop. She parties all night with a group of boys and I can hear their laughter.

And I observe countless faces and million idiosyncracies every morning when I walk down to office. Where else would you see such a charade!

And, thus I always say, the identity of a place is its people.

ENJOY!

2008-11-30T05:53:00.000-08:00

The Aussie Idiot Box

A country is known by its people, culture and television.

Seriously, television is a reflection of a country. You watch an hour of telly and you can sense the nerve of the country.
I have never been a sucker for the idiot box. Back home, I hardly watched telly, not even the movies they showed on the thousand and one channels whole day and night. I felt too restless and stupid, sitting hours before an idiot box (truly!) gawking at all they broadcasted at their whims. But it all chnaged once I landed in Down Under. In my free time, I have to watch telly to kill time, whether I like it or not. And thank god, I don't have a cable at my place, only 4 channels (Unimaginable at this time, isn't it folks!).

But those 4 channels can give you a glimpse of Australia and what it is like as a country, what is the nerve of the people and what they like in the name of culture.

The question is, what is the most frequent and common type of programs that they show on telly?
To begin with, there are no Ekta Kapoor type serials, not much Indian Idol type either. But there are reality shows which verges on the border of ludicrousity. For instance, they have a show called A Farmer Wants A Wife, where rich farmers queue up to select brides for themselves. Kind of arranged marriage on telly. But what is humilaiating is the farmers choose two women out of six, then invite them to their farm to stay for a while, date them with wine, food and yes intimate moments too. Then finally he will dump one and slect the other or he can dump both. Can you ever imagine subjugation and humiliation of women like this? And there is Big Brother which had become a national pastime. People freak out on this show. The Aussies vote crazily, there are lenghts of paper wasted on this program (every newspaper and mags cover it in details), tons of words wasted on news about the candidate updates and finally so much money given away in prizes. I have not watched the UK version of Big Brother where our dear old Shilpa won the crown, but this Auzzie version is a dampner......no I should say, it borders somewhere between stupidity and moronic. The house candidates chosen for this program seem like idiots without an ounce of brain and their performance could easily earn them stupids of the world award anyday. You should see it to believe me. Honest!

And,of course, Australia has old ties with convicts. The present nation after all had as its ancestors convicts and thieves transported from England. So the national bonding with crime serials. Anyday, you can see, in all channels, at least two serials, whose themes borders on serial killing, homicide, city crimes, murders and so on. So many of them......all share similar kind of themes and people are never bored watching them. What do you make out of it!
Sports is Australia's passion. But what kind of sports can you see on TV? I presume, mine are national channels. So what they show here are a reflection of the national sports history that the country have. Oh yes! You can watch Rugby (Soccer they call it here and a good dose of it!),Motor racing, Cycling (Tour de France was aired time to time live) and swimming. Football? Never! Gymnastics or Swimming, out of question. And in my 4 months of staying here, I have never ever seen any cricket (the game or a discussion, believe me!) in any channel. The only time I heard cricket discussed throughout a whole week is when Jane MacGrath, wife of Glen MacGrath died out of cancer. So? The aussies may be the world champions in cricket but they are shunned by media back home.
Then, isn't there anything worthwhile to watch?Doesn't Aussie telly have soaps?Don't they have any decent watchable programs?
Of course they have! And probably thats their redeeming factor.
The news aired in the channels are fantastic. The presentation, the timing, the presenters all really good. They have a way of presenting the news, short 5 minutes news break in between programs which imediately grabs the attention of the viewers. And the morning news is a program worth watching. The presenters would not only discuss the news but will present a medly of discussions on interesting topics and show news clippings from around the world. This is how I got the first sneak peak of the forthcoming Harry Potter movie. They discuss how to battle winter, detailed weather forecast, super market updates and so on.

Then, there are some programs that auzzie TV has borrowed from other countries like UK and US. Those are worth watching. For example, I love UK chef Gordon Ramsay's shows (Other version of Sanjeev Kapoor but more charismatic anyday). Then, there is a serial called Two and a Half Men and another, The Vicar of Dibley which are worth watching. Both are comedies, one from US and the other from UK. And, of course a re-run of Friends. But the soaps that are made in Australia are pathetic. They only discuss men, sex, surfing, drinking and nothing else. No substance. There is one called Private Practice which is so stupid. And one called Lipstick Jungle.
And, you can watch as much getaway program as you like. There are several travel programs which are promoted by travel companies and airways. Quite expensive holiday packages they are, but you can watch and enjoy them from the comforts of your home. And aussies are so passionate about food that at least 20% of the programs are cooking or food related programs. These you can watch for the heck of it though can never try your hands on.
Finally, no discussion about telly is complete without discussing the advertisements that are aired on the channels. So far I have not seen a single ad that I like for its creativity, presentation, theme or whatever. Since, I have watched great telly ads back home, I can't imagine how a country can be so unimaginative as far as selling a concept goes. The ads are mostly of sales that are going round the country. 5 out of 10 ads are about furnitures on sale.2 about rugs and clothings and electronic and white goods and 3 on other consumer products. If they want to advertise an ice cream, they will straightway bring an athlete (australia is obsessed about its athletes) and say why s/he likes the ice cream.So dumb! And same goes about any other house or food products. Even the models are not worth watching. The one sensitive ad I have seen is one where Queensland govt advertise for a safe workplace. The other ads simply doesn't have any thinking, leave alone creativity in them.

Well, so in short, if television is a reflection of the country, its one hell of a country isn't it?

Let me know your takes after reading through...............................

2008-11-30T05:44:00.000-08:00

Food for Thought

If food be the love of life, eat on!

Aussies are a race that survive on their passion for food. In my entire stay in Australia I have never come across so many occasions where people eat, eat and eat their hearts (or bellies) out. It is a city of gastronomical delight. It's amazing how many cafes and eateries are there in the city of Brisbane. And they offer such an amazing variety of food! You can find an assortment of world cuisine in all the huge food courts around the city malls.And they eat fresh. The supermarkets like Coles and Woolworth offer an array of fresh vegetables and fruits which is really amazing. You can find red strawberries nestling beside greenest avocados. The passionfruit, finding pride of place, amidst nectarines and green apples. Blueberries, Raspberries and cranberries are in plenty as people here love to have their morning cereals with berries and yogurt. The veggies are the greenest I have ever seen. And there isn't a veggie you are looking for and not find in these markets. Then there is the meat section where you can find a variety of cuts and chops and mince and ribs. Beef, Pork, Lamb, Chicken, Ham, Turkey and even Kangaroo meat. The same goes for the fishes.And this is just the beginning of the food tour. Go to the dairy products section and you can be blown out of you mind by the offer of custards and creams and cheeses and of course milk. There are so many varieties of milk that it took me two months of experimentation to find out which milk is right for my tea. The shelves of the huge stores are crammed with tins and packs and bottles of all shapes and sizes. Any imaginable food under the sun and you have got it here. And then there are freshly baked breads (a variety of them) and other mouth watering bakery products which will attract you with their fresh aroma. The supermarket giants advertise themselves as 'Fresh food people' which I think is 100% true in case of the Aussies.Now for the cafes and food courts. There are so many lined on the streets that you are spoilt for choice. You can just have a takeaway or seat under the sun on the roadside open air tables and laze with your time over a cup of coffee or whatever you fancy. And step into a food court and you are lost in the maze of eateries from around the world. It can range from just a salad which you can make on your own to some authentic oriental cuisine like Thai, Vietnamese, Indonesian, Japanese or Indian. Talking of Japanese cuisine, Aussies are crazy about sushi. There are so many sushi delis in the city that often you would wonder if sushi is the national food of Australia. And how can you ignore the fast food giants like KFC, McDonald, Red Rooster, Hungry Jack and Subway? The mile long queue during lunchtime proves how popular these fast food centres are. No wonder the Aussies are world's fattest people. The Pizza giants like Dominos, Pizza hut, New York slices and Eagle Boys vie for attention with gourmet pizzas created and served exclusively to your taste.Australians are the greatest beer drinkers in the world. Friday evening is the start of their week long revelry in roadside bars, taverns and pubs. There are so many beers in the taverns that you will be tired counting them. You can have them off the tap or in single bottles. And then there is the wide selection of wine. Aussies are basically wine drinkers. They have some great native wines produced in Hunter valley, Clare Valley and the likes which are famous all over the world. The red wine produced here are the best I have ever tasted, especially the ones coming from the MacWilliams label. The chardonnays and sparkling wines live up to their taste surely.And what about the posh eateries? Well you have expensive places like Jade Buddha where you have a great Brisbane river view while you pick on Asian and continental food. Then there are some places in the suburb where you can taste great tapas, sushi, Australian squids and octopus. The Yum Cha has great Chinese cuisine and JJ Jackson offers great Korean dish. The Belgian Brussels Bar is best known for its variety of beer and the quick nibbles. And you can never beat the great places on Southbanks with a bonus riverside view.So food it is friends and food it will be, for the Aussie love for food is ceaseless. They are not afraid to try new food from round the globe which is admirable. Their relentless pursuit for food has enriched their taste palate and made their country truly cosmopolitan.So wanna taste?????????

2008-05-05T07:35:00.000-07:00

Life is strange!
I was going through a rough patch of life. It was an innate darkness........I couldn't move towards the light...............Then suddenly.....just like that....I reached the end of the tunnel where I could see jets of golden flash pouring like shower all around me....................
I was stunned at its power.......shocked to silence by its intensity...................
and I was scared.............scared that this light will suddenly dim and vanish as it has appeared out of nowhere without warning.................
But it has stayed.......................stayed with me for sometime now......................and I am basking in its warmth and glory...........................
and the smile in my lips never fade these days...................
God's glory? God's gift?
Well............perhaps.................perhaps not..............but I don't want to think.Don't want to reason.
Just drift.............drift along like a driftwood on the rivers of life.........................
As I said, life is really really strange!

2006-07-18T02:32:00.002-07:00

Fun At Work

It's fun to be a part of Tata Steel WBT project.

Crunched deadline
Tough SME
Rigorous schedules
Strenuous Journey

But we enjoy working in the project because of the fun element.
It's not just the work but the working spirit that matters to us. This ebulliant spirit is contributed by the individual team members who are more than match for themselves. This is especially in case of individuals like Samiran(aka Sams), Subhomoy(Our current chart topper and man in demand graphics guy), Satyabrata (the most sought after techie of our team) and Pratik (The next Kurosawa). The others just lend able support.

To start with the antics of Samiran.
Sams is one of the pillars(???) of our graphic team. Matured. Stoic. Befuddled. Serious. Why the chosen adjectives? Well read on then......

Scene 1

Almost midnight. We were to deliver the SMLP course next morning. We were slogging like donkeys to meet the deadline. The full team was on its toe checking, rechecking and fixing all the bugs (or tigers!). Sams was asked to check the audio quality and the audio synchronisation in the course. He came to report to the Project Manager(PM). With a serious tone he said," I checked the course. There is no audio bug except in one screen. In that screen the audio has spelling mistake."
Next shot: We were all rolling in the corridor clutching our stomachs.He wore a stoic face and said, "What is there to laugh?"

Then there was a time when Sams came down and said that he found another bug in the audio. "There is blue colour in the audio", he said. Beat that!

Once when the lead graphics asked him about his work, Sams formally wrote a mail to him saying that he has no work but will try to complete the work before lunch. He also said that fishes are flying and screaming in the air in one of the screensavers in our SSG's desktop. When someone gave him a call and asked why he didnot pick up the phone, he replied, "I saw it.It was a missed call. Why should I pick up?"
He said Chinese people are sahibs. We need a passport to go to Bangladesh. So all ilish mach (Hilsa fish) imported from Bangladesh in the monsoon are foreigners. Imagine!

Once I screamed at him for several mistakes he made. He listened to my threats and when I was done he simply grinned and said," What will I do? Hoe gechhe re!(It's done)".

That is our Sams. He provides the much needed comic relief in our otherwise drab and monotonous project. And we have appealed to our PM not to allow anyone to lure him away.He's too precious to be lent to anyother team.

Second in line is Subhomoy, the graphics hero.

A young chap.Full of enthusiasm.A natural philosopher.And carries a wacky sense of humour.

Subhomoy is much into R&D. He researches about the various team members and their idiosyncrasies. He wrote a thesis about the origin of the name of one of our team members Balaka. I will like to reproduce that write up(Sent via mail to all) here.
Subhomoy wrote:
Alert!!
Let me tell you the History behind the name BALAKA ,where It has been derived….
We all know the German Football Player “BALAK” , I hope the spelling is correct .
Now , the fun part : Now Add the Letter “A” with the word. Then u discover the word rather the name we are familiar with: the one and only “BALAKA” , “BALAK “ + A …that means in hindi – “come BALAK ,come ..”.
So the conclusion is : the former war mongers (Germans ) are now sending spies to India to jeopardize our lives .Balaka is one of them We must drive them out with our full strength in order to combat terrorism, neo –imperialism.
These German Nazi s are intruding in our country being disguised , introducing themselves by false names like this one: BALAKA. In Bengali Balaka means a white sleek duck who can fly in high altitude .The people will think that the girl is Bengali and she belongs to our community .

But no!!! Oh ! My God ! she is a German extremist. I beg our defence Minister to take some measures to get this girl arrested as soon as possible.

OTHERWISE …. We will handle this matter in our way….. Be prepared.

Gwen TAk!!!

{ It is supposed to be a german word I think it is not correct. Pls excuse me.}

We all thought Balaka would beat him black and blue. When Balaka's first course was under production, he went and asked her,"This is your first course. How does it feel to lay egg for the first time in life?" Can you blame her if she screams at him now?

Whenever one of our team members is in the vicinity he would sing out the Nycil ad:'chubhti jalti garmi. chubhti jalti garmi'.We'd all burst out laughing. The member is happily oblivious to the fact and would laugh along which evoked more laughter.

Subhomoy told innocently to one of our techies Satyabrata:"I want to write a book about you. It'll be called 'Sattyer Sandhane' (In Search of Truth)."
"Why", Satya asked.
"Because the content people are forever searching for you".
Satyabrata felt so irrited by the tone of his voice, he said,"Go, write a book on Balaka.Leave me alone".

Mimicry is one of his forte. He mimics the team members (And others too!) with elan, we wonder why he is not on stage! He would often imagine hilarious situations involving the team members and reproduce them in flash. We, content people, are feeling threatened by this invasion into our territory. Because he writes mails with subject line like ' Are these charts becoming a menace?' or ' The woman in disguise'. So?

Now, Satyabrata is a serious guy. Mild mannered.Workaholic.He has his fingers in too many pies. He is into 2-3 projects simultaneously. Works hard. More so, because his lead shoves everything on his shoulders. He is instrumental in streamlining the entire project from tech aspects. Once, our PM Rajat wants him to do some work for Tata Steel when he was too busy with another project. It seems he had a delivery and could not devote time to our project. When he failed to make Rajat perceive the matter, he said mildly, "My status is like the kamwali bais (Kajer Mashi is what he said). Every babu wants his home to give priority. What will I do?" We all burst out laughing. Rajat too. And he was excused.

We are proud of our very own (version of?????) Kurosawa aka Pratik. He is Ritwik, Satyajit and Kurosawa combined. It's a visual delight to watch him visualize with the Graphics team. He places his palms like a movie director and shouts: "Pan. Zoom. Cut." The graphics team is forever humouring him. And most important, he has a knack for doing a vanishing act like a magician. The graphics team is forever in pursuit of Pratik. They have actually decided to make a film titled 'Pratik's Pursuit'. And they will illustrate it to give it an animation effect.

The other members have their own idiosyncrasies. too. Sonia is forever wearing a knitted brow. Indra can match Pratik in his vanishing acts. Suman is psyched out about doing charts. Kaushik, oof oui ma! Siddhartha draws wonderful cartoons of the team members. And our gambhir SSG, strict about rules but otherwise a sporty kind, backs up the team like a possesive mother hawk.

And not to forget, our team lead Ananda, the hero. He has a penchant for walking all night (alone????) through the desolated path encircling Tata Steel guest house. Why we wonder?!!!!!!!!

To crown it all there is Rajat, our PM. Wearing a smile and sending encouraging mails (though always late. Beaten by Satish by milliseconds everytime).

But all said and done, WE ARE THE TATA STEEL TEAM.

And it's FUN to be a part of it. Because, no one can enjoy work as we do and have fun too.

Funtoosh you say? You bet!

2006-01-19T02:25:00.000-08:00

Cell phones are becoming more and more futuristic as a gizmo. people are inventing more uses for their cell phones.

Here is my contribution to that list.

When you talk long hours on the cell it heats up. The best way to utilize it at that point is to iron your clothes with it. The best models for this task are the old Nokia handsets like 3310.3315. 3330 etc.
You can fit four wheels under the flat surface of your phone and use it as roller skates during rush hours. Actually saves time and very cost effective too.
The cell phones can be used as weapons in case of emergency. This is especially applicaple to ladies.

I am sure there are more.

I invite all of you to contribute on this topic and make a list of suggestions. May be the cell phone companies will take a note of it.

Adieu!

2006-01-17T00:12:00.000-08:00

Hi All,

Writing after a long hiatus. For the past few months it had been a busy schedule and hardly any time to write in blogs.

What shall I write about?
These days one thing that bothers me is how the cartoon channels are influencing the kids into doing crazy things. Previously there was a madness about the Pokemon series. Kids seem to swear on the names of Pikachu and team.Frankly speaking, I failed to see any method in the madness. Neither did I understand head or tail of the animation series. I tried to watch the program but it tested my patience badly. I can't claim myself to be a cartoon freak but I like cartoons that are easy to understand and are enjoyable. I found neither in Pokemon series.
In fact, most of the cartoons in the animax series falls in similar category.

Recently, there is an increasing madness about manga series that has something to do with a device called 'Bey blade'. Well, most of us have definitely played with the wooden top in our childhood. This 'bey blade' is a version of the same.But it has a highly futuristic look and the kids are all going gaga over it. I know a few of them who compete to possess most number of Bey blades so that they can be called the 'bey blade' king of the neighbourhood or school or whatever community of kids they belong to. They eat, talk and sleep Bey blade. I know a kid who talks Dragon and bey blade in his sleep.

Often kids rebel if they are not allowed to watch these series. They neglect their studies and swear by these cartoon characters.

In the long run,I feel, this madness benifits only the retailers and toy makers because they reap a golden profit by manufacturing and selling these toys. The kids make such demands for these toys that the parents are compelled to buy them at any cost. There are so many versions and makes of these toys that it is bound to make a dent in the pocket of the parents. The 'Bey blade' alone has at least 6 different versions.

At the end of it all, the question is: Should we allow this craziness to continue and take its toll? Can't we drive back the kids to the healthy habit of reading comics instead of watching it?
Well................we can atleast try.

2005-10-24T17:37:00.000-07:00

Sunshine at last!

Adieu to the rain after the incessant downpour for the past 6 days.

Now
Sun reflecting on the window glass.
Sun kissed leaves catching sunlight on their luscious green body.
Sun soaked eyes, lips and skin.
Sun shower on the world.

Its a sun kissed day.

2005-10-20T10:02:00.000-07:00

It has been pouring since yesterday. The roads are all flooded. There's a paucity of vehicles plying on the road.

When I woke up this morning the gloomy sky welcomed me with a solemn mood. Hell! why do I have to go to office today? Sleep would have been a better option. Should lie on the bed with a good book and doze off. Or have a couple of drinks and enjoy the rain on my window panes.

I pulled myself reluctantly from bed and headed towards the washroom. No use wasting time dreaming useless dreams. Beginning of another dreary day!

2005-09-06T17:13:00.000-07:00

These are a few of my favourite things..........

The line takes us back to the old song from 'Sound of Music'.
As I was listening to the Ronan Keating song 'If tomorrow never comes...' I wondered why not write about a few of my favourite things because if tomorrow never comes then my favourites will be buried forever.

Well the list of favourites can be endless but I'd try to restrict it to 5 in each genre.

SONGS
You Needed me (Anne Murray)
Annie's Song (John Denver)
Words (Boyzone)
Whispers in the Wind (Lobo)
Evergreen Tree(Cliff Richards)

SINGERS
Celine Dion
Jim Reeves
Lobo
Anne Murray
Julio Iglesias

AUTHORS
G.G.Marquez
J.K.Rowling
Paulo Coelho
Vikram Seth
Anurag Mathur
(The list is unexhaustive)

BOOKS
Illusion
The Prophet
The Bridges on the Madison County
The Alchemist
All the Harry Potters

FILMS
Forrest Gump
Schindler's List
The Bridges on the Madison County
The Terminal
Shakespeare in Love

ACTORS
Dustin Hoffman
Richard Gere
Joseph Fiennes
Julia Roberts
Jim Carey

MY ETERNAL FAVOURITES
Walking in the rain
Lying on my back on the soft grass with the blue sky above
Scribbling and doodling on the white surface of the paper(Some of them might take forms and fly to the world of poetry)
Listening to my favourite music sitting in a dark room with a drink in my hand and lonliness as my company
Lying with a good book and a cup of cappucchino in a chilly day

Though the truth is, no one is interested in reading other's favourites, but this is my blog and what the heck! I can express my feelings the way I want.Who knows: If tomorrow never comes...........

P.S: I invite all those who take the pain to visit this page to add their favourites because..........if tomorrow never comes they will have a regret....

2005-09-04T23:09:00.000-07:00

Magic of Anagram:

Our office is a fun place to work and the colleagues are more fundu. This morning when I reached office my friend Kaushik (visit him in his blog www.thrillerworld.blogspot.com ) sent a fun mail to us.I would just like to share it with all (of course with his permission). A writer by his own right (his comics is being published by Ronin Studio,US) he very modestly claims that he owns this to a software called anagramgenius.

Here it goes:Anagram of all our names:

Kaushik Karforma - Auk of rakish mark.

Gitali Chelleng Jana - Jail giant challenge.

Reena Khanna - Aha! Keen 'n' ran.

Shyamali Chanda - A dynamical hash.

Anirban Roychoudhury - Hoary boundary urchin.

Himadri Bhattacharya- Ha Ha! A dithyrambic rat.

Debabrata Das - Drab Database.

Payel Rai Chowdhury - Horridly Ache Up Way.

Vinod Krishnan - Vanish on drink.

Anirban Banik - Bin Irk Banana

:) :) :) Great one Kaushik!

2005-08-02T02:56:00.000-07:00

Changing Skies

In the mid afternoon, suddenly if someone rings up and says that you have to pack your bags and fly to Oxford within a fortnight you would either consider it as a bad joke someone is playing on you or else you must be taking a cat nap in the afternoon and someone caught you in your dream. Well it happened one day for me when Swati Ghosh from British Council, Kolkata called me up to ask whether I have a passport or not. I was really puzzled and hardly apprehensive about what her real intention was. My reply in positive led her to unravel the mystery behind her curious question:I have been selected from eastern zone to represent India in a Seminar to be held in Corpus Christi College, Oxford and it was due within a fortnight. i couldn't believe my ears! I felt sick with worry and my stomach became queasy just thinking about the time span I have to prepare myself for the flight. There was a long official break ahead due to the festival of Holi and I had only three days at my disposal to arrange things. Imagine. Just THREE DAYS and my first tour abroad!It was impossible to manage things within this short period and what about the finance (my biggest tension), and visa and other protocols and school leave (I was working in a school then) and winter clothes and I didn't even have proper travel luggage and.......the list went on and on.My head simply reeled at the immensity of tasks that's needed to be done. My senses froze and I decided to surrender to time and fate.
Everything was finalized on 1 April (No! it's not an April Fool joke) and I received my air tickets. I finally realized I'm actually flying to Oxford, a dream destination for all who at some point of time has studied English literature and spent time with the works of great literary masters. I had a long discussion with British Council Director (Eastern India) Ms. Sujata Sen who provided me the necessary support and encouragement and the nitty gritty of the travel arrangements. Throughout the day all the formalities regarding visa et all were finalized. My brain cells were kind of anesthetized with excitement and fatigue.As the last rays of the glowing sun cast long shadows on the busy Theatre Road bathing the colonial mansion of the British Council with an orange radiance, the world appeared slightly changed to me. Or is it something withing me that has changed? The first wave of excitement gave way to a clawing hunger in my belly. I had not eaten the whole day. I felt like yelling and shouting in joy clutching the visa like a precious possession that you dare not lose. It may sound egotistical but I wanted the whole world to know that I am flying to Oxford.Instead, I tried to maintain my composure and walked to the nearest eatery.In three days time I supposed to board a plane to London.
*******************************************
I stepped inside the N.S.C Bose international terminal on 4th April'02. Nervous I was, however much I refuse to admit. But when I checked in with my luggage I soon fell into the stride and felt as if I had been doing it all my life. I even chatted smartly( hiding my fear that something might go wrong anytime!) with the women police personnel during the security check.
The Royal Jordonian airbus was a mammoth black bird, sunlight reflecting from its golden rear wings. I thought it was going to swallow and deport me to a strange land.
Once inside the plane I felt as if I was not taking an international flight but a local train to either Burdwan or Bangaon. The flight was Bengal dominated except for the air hostesses and stewards. Someone speaking something other that Bangla was a rarity. The take off was smooth though my ears were hurting a little. We reached Amman (Capital city of Jordon) at 9.30 p.m Amman time which is 3 1/2 hrs behind IST. There was a transit for one night and Queen Alia Hotel offered every comfort for a night stay.When I finally went to my hotel room after having a sumptuous buffet dinner at the palatial dining room, I felt a bit strange inside.Here I was, confidently walking through the lobbyof the airport hotel, dangling my roome keys as if I had walked through this place umpteen number of times in my life. I pinched myself to make sure it was not a dream.
The next morning I boarded the flight to Heathrow from Queen Noor airport, Amman. When the plane was about to land at Heathrow I looked out of the window at the sprawling countryside below.The cardboard houses, the shining thin ribbon like Thames, long, serpentine rows of vehicles appeared Lilliputian and for me it was love at first sight. This is the land of Shakespeare and Keats and Wordsworth and.......and......and.....of course Harry Potter. The thought ignited some sparks inside me. When I finally landed, I felt extremely confident and comfortable moving around. All my fears vanished with one stroke of an invisible magician's wand.
Outside the airport the sun was uncannily hot on my back. People had previously warned me that though it was spring in England at the time of my visit but the weather was very unpredictable. The chill would be tough to endure.My uncle came up with his family to receive me. One happy family reunion.We drove to the lovely countryside of Kent where they resided. I stayed with them for two days before I went to Oxford.
The next day was really eventful. I got my first taste of London when my uncle decided to give me a tour of the city. We boarded a train and reached Victoria station. From there we walked along the Buckingham Street and reached the palace. It was the week of Queen Mother's funeral, so the palace was closed to the visitors. But just to look at that vast architechtural splendour could give an idea of the regal grandeur of the English monarchy.And do you know that the colourful palace guards who appear more like toy soldiers do not blink their eyelids and do not move for a second?Amazing! That day I toured some of the landmarks of the city.The sight and smell of the city was intoxicating. The pigeons in the Trafalgar Square reminded me of India gate. Incidentally, I noticed a sign posted there which read: yaha kabutaron ko dana khilana mana hai in Hindi. A sign in Hindi in London city! Real surprise. If I had searched, I presume I could have found one in Bangla as well.Equally fascinating were the endless rows of tulips and daffodils at St. James Parkand the pelicans and swans that nudged the passerbys to feed them without fearing human tortures. When the Big Ben announced the end of the afternoon, we decided to return home. Oh and let me tell you, Tony Blair's residence is not half as grand as our PM's residence. In fact it is rather ordinary.
****************************************************
When I boarded the coach from Victoria coach station, realization finally donned upon me that I am on my to Oxford. The three and a half journey through the lovely English countryside soothed my tensed mind and refreshed my spirit. I was ready to face anything.
The first feel of the city was one of awe and wonder. It is an old city where the streets are laid with cobbled stones and the buildings smell of an old world charm.Would you believe if I tell you that the streets of Oxford are still lighted by the gas lights of yesteryears? The numerous lanes and bi-lanes were dotted with famous colleges. The city oozed romanticism. The church steeples and the haunting melody of the church bells every half hour proclaimed why this city is called 'the city of dreaming spires'.
******************************************************
I don't want to bore people with boring descriptions of a literary seminar. I would just like to add that the meals in the Corpus Christi college dining room is an experience in itself, especially the dessert. And of course the menu were printed in french leaving us, non-French people, a lot of room for guesswork.
My visit to Oxford will remain incomplete if I don't share my one encounter with Harry Potter.A fanatic fan of the boy wizard, I just bumped into him while the shooting forHarry Potter partII were going on in the adjacent Christ Church Cathedral. It was a chance meeting when I went out for a evening walk alone and simply found Harry and Ron coming out of the cathedral after a shoot and walked right up to them without realising who they were. I gaped in wonder and amazement but Daniel just looked at me with a shy smile and a nod, pulled up his collar and was hurried away by the security personnel.
Wow!!!!!!
*************************************************************
My final adventure turned out to be with Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Yes! the great detective whom I met in a musuem located in 221B, Baker Street.Well I know there is no such address but actually there is a museum devoted to him on that street.Well I was wandering along the street searching for teh musuem when I walked into a shop selling Sherlock Holmes memorabilia.I met an elderly man dressed in that typical Holmes frock coat and smoking a pipe. When I asked him the address he just smiled and told me to have a look at a small musuem situated above the shop. I had time and inclination so I accompanied the man upstairs.It was a small museum of memorabilia collected from the set of Granada TV production of Sherlock Holmes with Jeremy Brett rendering the character superbly.I was taking a look at the collection and chatting up with the man telling him that I waited in anticipation whole week for the serial which was telecast in India on Sunday mornings.I was actually in school then. I added that in my opinion Jeremy Brett is the best portrayed Sherlock Holmes on screen. He suddenly stopped, turned round dramatically, struck a pose and said,"Oh, that's me!"I was stunned. I could not believe I'm meeting Brett in person. Dazed, I took a snap of the person with his permission.
When I came out in the broad daylight and was walking towards the original museum, the fact still lurked in my mind. Something didn't seem right to me but I couldn't put my finger in it.Anyway, after I returned I checked Brett immediately. Google revealed that Brett died some time back. What a fool he made me!
*******************************************************************
So friends and not-friends, that was in short my one trip abroad in bits and pieces. But the tour unfurled a whole new world before my eyes. It opened up new vistas and pointed the direction to the unending horizon where dreams mingle with reality to gift cherished treasures that make life worth while. As the American conquistadores say: It is not the destination but the journey that matters.
*********************************************************************
Adieu and all!
Read and get Bored!Ha!Ha!Ha!

2005-07-08T03:24:00.000-07:00

Hooray!! It's the weekend.But...................................

End of another week.Slow, weary, drudging week. Monday morning blues stretching like a rubber band to friday afternoon. Just a few more hours and hurray you have reached the finishing line. Two days of relief and then...oh Monday!!!!!!!!!
Fridays are meant for planning how to spend the weekends. How to party Friday and Saturday nights and not to bother about hang overs. Fridays are meant for dreaming about those lazy hours in bed in the weekend mornings, about keeping late hours and not to bother waking up next morning. Fridays are for dreaming about those breakfasts in bed, about late lunch, about never ending evenings extending into late night outings with friends and lots of other things......planned and unplanned.
And Saturdays......wow! A whole day at your disposal and no one to discipline you and moreover the next day is sunday yaar! So go out and have fun. Or you can clear out all your piled up work which you kept on deferring throughout the week. It can be a cleaning, washing or cooking day also.
Sundays.......waking up with a splitting headache. But who cares! You can always spend extra hours in bed and not worry about trivial things like a shave, creases in the freshly ironed trousers or that invisible stain in the shirt pocket. Why bother about the pen, the spectacles, the washed handkerchief and the shine in the shoes. It's sunday after all. So the whole day is for unlimited masti or just for chilling out by the pool or lolling in bed with a good video on.

But.....all good things are destined to end sometime and this happiness is transient. By the time the night is over.....you wake up in reverie as the first ray of the sun filter through your curtains.

It's another Monday folks! Groan!

2005-07-05T23:31:00.000-07:00

Down The Rain drenched Memory Lane

Yesterday once more. No, I'm not dreaming, neither am I reliving those days. Its just a bit of nostalgia.
In this rain drenched afternoon I just feel like driving down the memory lane to those wonderful rainy moments I so cherish in my heart.

Zoom 1
I can see myself soaked to the bones in the heavy downpour splashing rain water in Park Street. Me and Monisha.Whole Calcutta was under water. If anyone has ever experienced that adventure in rain in Park street, he will know what it is like. We stepped inside the US Embassy to get my TOEFL forms dripping water on the plush carpet. The man sitting at the reception directed me to a lady inside a glass partition.The lady was concentrating on a racy thriller. She gave me annoyed glances, saw my wretched condition and just shhhooooood me off without hearing a single statement. I was surprised at her rude gesture but determined,I went back and showed her my passport, admission letters et all.....and she was literally surprised to see them.Probably she thought me to be an out of the world person not capable of appearing any exam....leave alone the admissions to Universities abroad.
I really enjoyed her shocked state. That made up for everything.
And then back on the street....and RAIN....Wow!!!!!

Zoom 2
Another wonderful memory is on a rainy afternoon when the whole world was awashed by a heavy downpour and I was blissfully sleeping in my bed after a good meal. Suddenly I was shaken out of my dreams by a strong angry voice. I woke up with a start and saw my best friend standing there with a scowl on her face. I asked her why she was out of home in that pouring rain( Her House is a long distance from mine and she has to take lot of trouble to come). She said she has come to fight me. The day before we had a terrible fight and had stopped talking. Then started a shouting match and she got it out of her system. I was a quiet receiver all this while. After sometime, she stormed out in the rain and I followed just to see her off at the station. All this time there was no verbal communication between us. Half-way through she turned around, saw me, asked if I wanted to say something to her and I just said:"stay back ". She threw a glance, turned around and walked back home, me following her as usual. Once home we burst out laughing....the fight over...the anger out of the system...its time to reconcile. Friends, and friendship too, can be..........hmmmm......crazy. Those were real days!

Zoom 3
One of my most frightening memories is also associated to a rainy day. Those days I was teaching in school and it was a saturday. It was raining so much that visibility was rendered to few feet. It was a half day at school so I was standing on the bus stop around 1.30 for a bus...infact any kind of conveyance to take me home which was a 2 hrs journey on a normal day.I got an auto rickshaw which took me to a connecting point. From there I took another auto to my destination but after travelling for a distance there seem to be a road block due to some political trouble and there was a literal bandh. Everything was stalled. The Auto deserted us in that pouring rain and just vanished. I saw a bus approaching towads us piercing that heavy curtain of rain. I raised my hands and stopped it. I boarded it and there was a very few people inside it , mostly women and children and some men. The bus also stopped after rolling a few metres down the road. Suddenly all the windows of the bus was closed and someone warned us to stay still, not to make a single sound. There had been a political murder on the road ahead and the anti-party cadres were vandalising and attacking everything that represent the ruling party. Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door of the bus accompanied by fierce beating on the body of the bus. The driver timidly opened the knob and immediately jumped over the crowd and disappeared. We saw some men standing there armed with hockey sticks, scythes, sharp knives, swords and sticks. They took one look at us and told us to alight the steps and just walk down without glancing back. They were about to torch the vehicle.
On that pouring rain, in an unknown place I didn't know what to do, where to go. I decided to follow the crowd which were moving in a certain direction because the train station was supposed to be on that direction. In knee deep water I started my journey. All the shops on either sides of the road were closed; the windows of the houses were deliberately kept shut. I couldn't call up home to inform about this mishap. Somehow I reached the station exhausted but glad that I made it and atleast now would have the chance to reach home safely. I stood on the platform peering at the distance from where the train will arrive. Suddenly I felt a stillness around me. There was a spine chilling silence. I looked back and saw that the platform was almost deserted and some men were throwing big stone chunks on the rails. I just froze when I glanced at the other end of the platform. A group of men flashing naked swords and brandishing sticks were rushing towards my direction with cries that can chill your marrows. They stopped short to warn a shopkeeper. Then I heard a kind voice in my ear. I looked beside to see a man standing there with a briefcase. He said he was there with me in the auto rickshaw. Both of us immediately fled from the scene blindly crossing the rails to reach the other side. We didn't know which way to go. We jumped into an auto rickshaw elbowing people to get our place. It was already full beyond its capacity. We just squeezed in but it conked after moving some way down the flooded by-lanes. It was in the middle of nowhere. I never felt so helpless in my life. All of us were hopelessly standing in the rain. Our reverie was broken by the horns of a car. Our conked auto was blocking the way of a car which was wise to take a short cut through those bylanes. We mobbed the driver who was extremely unwilling to accomodate us. He said his upholstery will be spoiled and he will get a blast from his employer. I saw a placard in front of the car on which was written the name of the school where I studied. I pleaded(so irrationally!) that since I studied once in that school he must give me a ride.What foolish reason! At that point I came to know for the first time in my life what utter desperation meant! Finally, we lured him with money and he took the bait. He left us near a lane closer to the main road. We, myself and the stranger, searched our way to the main road....again took an auto and reached a point from where we can atleast take a cab. But alas! It was such a downpour that you can't see across the road leave aside finding a cab. I was thoroughly soaked and didn't care any more about the rain.The man was there all through with me. Though we spoke very little concentrating on how to reach our destinations, but the feeling that I'm not alone provided an odd sense of comfort. Suddenly he cried aloud. I looked at him oddly. Now what? He just pointed a finger at a distance. I could see two headlights piercing the thick blanket of water. It was a bus! It stopped before us and we boarded it. Luckily for us it reached our destination. Sitting there in the comfortable security of the bus I asked him who he was and what did he do. He gave me his phone no. which I conveniently forgot. He got down before me just muttering a thanks (God knows what for!). I reached home at around 7 in the evening shaking and shivering and guess what....I was soaked to the bones and immediately caught fever. Next day whole of Calcutta closed down due to incessant rain. It was 24th Sept, 2001.

Zoom 4
Finally, a happy memory. I was roaming alone on the side streets in the Thames area in England. I felt oddly free. I visited the Tate Gallery and Globe theatre and had an extremely good time. It was like all the paintings of the masters was alive before my eyes. I sat on the banks with a cappuchino musing about past, present and future. Suddenly the rain came down. I quickly ran for shelter and then I thought why not have a walk in the rain. So i started exploring the little side lanes and that's how I discovered a musuem of tea and coffee in a side street. I saw a little shop where this poster about the museum for tea and coffee was pasted. The door was closed. I almost pasted my nose on the glass door to see what was inside. Suddenly the door flew open and an enquiring face asked me what I want. I felt embarassed but told the man I wanted to see what is there inside. The man welcomed me. There was no one and things were all scattered. He said they were just setting up the place and the museum was closed for the day. He gave me a tour of the place, offered me coffee and finally bade goodbye. A free tour! Saved a few pounds in a rain drenched English afternoon.

CUT.

So friends.....rain...rain and rain.....reminds me of those precious memories that I nurture in my heart......rain in my window panes and rain in my heart. Rain forever.

2005-06-28T05:02:00.000-07:00

Nostalgia

I want to walk this red earth with you.
In the sun kissed mornings.
In the rain washed afternoons.
In the jasmin scented evenings.
In the glow worm sprinkled nights.

The rustling of tamarind leaves.
The dust coated horizon.
The dusk colored clouds.
The red oleander strewn roads.
I want to walk this red earth with you.

The dark crows pasted in the orange twilight.
The wet smell of blue green grass.
The marigold reflection on the rippling water.
The echo of fading whistles of the engine.
I want to walk this red earth with you.

Nostalgia.....................
Me .............. and.................
Few dust coated pages of mind's album.

2005-06-22T04:54:00.000-07:00

Just a taste of my poem to remind you to keep visiting this page again and again and again.

Reminiscence

memories are like golden threads,woven round the soul.
they are like tiny droplets of mists
hanging from the evergreen foliage of time.
we collect them drop by drop.
rainbow reflecting from the core of their heart.
it's the little bit of life's anodyne,
left to heal our soul in the loneliness of ageing day.
they become the lovely poetry of life,
lulling the pulsating ache of nostalgia.
they free our spirit from thecorporal cage,
lift our amorphos soul to the level of eternity.
and--
we drink from these rivulets of memories.
the chalice,
becoming the elixir of life.

Read The Simoqin Prophecies....

2005-06-20T05:26:00.000-07:00

anything under the sun: anything under the sun

If anyone genuinely want a side splitting humour and enjoy an intellectually stimulating book over the weekend read Samit Basu's The Simoqin Prophecies. It has been quite sometime that a book consists of such unadulterated fun elements.It is one of the best spoofs I have read.
Imagine Lord of the Rings meet Ramayana meet Tarzan meet james Bond meet Mahabharata meet Harry Potter meet Bollywood.The concoction is what Samit has come up with.The book has side splitting humour and some very funny passages.It is full of allusions like Draupadi's Swayambara where Arjun aka modern day Rabin hood elope the princess with the help of an outsider . Or the Ahalya Uddhar episode of Ramayana or Jatayu following abducted Sita.The incidents are of course a spoof of the real stories but so cleverly crafted that you identify the allusions yet read on because of the sheer force of the story.There is a wonderful cameo role of all powerful Bollywood director Badshah aka Mantric who lives in the island of Bolvudis and make Muwi-visions. He is the most powerful person in the kingdom with magical powers greater than anyone.Then there is Asvin who is being groomed up as a Hero and there is the eternal confrontation between good and evil. There are two schools: Hero school and the University of Enki modelled on the B schools and the modern day academic institutions.There are the divisions of States and boundaries and the various political alliances that is so prevalent in today's world.I almost thought the city of KOL can refer to US though the name allude to Kolkata. Then there are denizens of different spheres like danavs, asurs, rakshas, vamans etc. which refer to the various inhabitants of this earth who co habit together for the sake of maintaining economic and political balance.
By the way, if you want to split your sides laughing, you can read the funny incidents of the Swayambara and you'll just wonder when you have last read such wonderful spoof. And the peculiar quest of prince Asvin to slay the rakshashi Akrat in the Shanta -van is so funny even a frowning face would burst out laughing. The names chosen for the characters are hilarious.....funny to the bones.I can't think when someone has last created something as funny as a Kingdom of Potolpur where there are three princes named Chorpulish, Kumirdanga and Lukochuri? And the names of heroes like Narak, Danh-Gem, Silver Dagger, Minty Python, Samurai warriors like Wu Sen Monks, Bali the Vanar Lord, Maya, the spellbinder and Rabinhood is superb. There is one Mr. Silver Dagger who is a prototype of James Bond and even comes out with a dialogue like "shaken not stirred" regarding how he likes his dragonjuice drink.The whole story revolves round a fickle theme of the rise of a demon, the dark force and creating a Hero to fight against the evil force.This simple storyline is expanded into a superb plot just as they do in Bollywood with so many twists and turns and sub plots on the way to climax. And the end is a total anti climax of the plot.

Overall, just read The Simoqin Prophecies to check out how well written a spoof can be. Samit here is one to you! Hope you'll write a sequel to this one and let us in for some more genuine laughter.

anything under the sun

2005-06-17T02:15:00.000-07:00

where are the blue butterflies and the orange sunshine?
where are the sunkissed rainwashed bouganvillia and the fresh scent of the wild grass?
where are the innocent gigglings of moonfaced babies and raven croaked warm dawn?
where are they? Eh where are they......?

Seem to be a lot of nonsense but that's what the idea is all about, isin't?

'Anything under the sun' includes sensible nonsense as a part of its repertoire.
So friends....and foes alike.....wield your swords.....oops! sorry....mouse and fingers on keyboard and get going.......

anything under the sun

2005-06-17T00:59:00.000-07:00

To Be or Not To Be.Life walks by, in the sweltering heat, amidst pouring showers, on lonely grounds, amongst gay crowds, lost in depths of thrilling ecstacies or mournful solitary eves. Life just passes by.I am not looling for an answer because there is no question. Just an opinion.

posted by Payel at 12:47 AM

Mediocre But Arrogant - a novel about love and life in a Business School

2005-06-13T23:42:00.000-07:00

Mediocre But Arrogant - a novel about love and life in a Business School

The book cover is apt to the theme of the novel.It is in sync with the corporate profile the biz school kids aspire after.However, the watch seem a little odd with the present day set of yuppies who sport Rolex or Cartier or at the most fashionable foreign brands. Does anyone sport a pocket watch however expensive and fashionable it is?

The color could have been a bit more bright and the name prominently displayed on the top. However, though first impression counts, it is the content of the book (and of course the price!)that matters in the long run.
Looking forward to it Abhijit.

Mediocre But Arrogant - a novel about love and life in a Business School

2005-06-13T23:35:00.000-07:00

Mediocre But Arrogant - a novel about love and life in a Business School