Monday, December 7, 2009

My hero

Evey few heartbeats an unknown neuron in my brain
Raises a war cry
it forges the blade to cut through the thorns of my past lives
it weaves the basket to collect the rainbows of the days gone by.

It makes me want to jump like a mad man
It makes me want to laugh like a drunk man
Vistas of an eden in my future beckons me to march ahead
And I walk, I run, I sprint, I leap ahead

Monday, November 30, 2009

Dreams of Insomniac slumber

most men dream while they sleep
Sweet dreams broadens their imaginary lips and makes them smile
lengthen their slumber in hopes of living the dream just a few more heartbeats.

Nightmares widens the real eyes, mutes the sweet lullaby, drives away the sleep
We draw solace in the more comfortable reality
We throw up prayers for the sweet dreams to come to pass
to lock away the nightmares in some corner far away from the world we breathe.

But my sweet dreams come to my life when I am wide awake
I fear the thought of dreaming about you while I sleep
I may never want to wake up
to break my dream of you by my side as I dream.

My nightmares are all about losing you
Although I only dream of winning the love of you
Tell me love how do I lengthen my slumber with my eyes wide awake
How do I embrace the decree of the Gods, chase away my nightmares
for I have not dreamt in my sleep.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

rumblings on 23rd December

With every passing strand of time,
I find myself at the mercy of the same Gods
I can't reconcile with the truth
that you will love someone else.
I find myself bereft of words
Rhythmic verses have transformed into hollow proses.
My heart bleeds to win your heat
My eardrums strain to hear your voice
My mind conjures images to fool my eyes
To tell me that you are here.

My mind create false hopes
that I create a situation
to hear your thoughts.

This is the last stage of bargaining.
A last prayer telling the Gods
I seek not the lighthouse
but the distant warmth of the rays
to bring a smile to my lips.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

one of the best movies I have ever watched

I thought of several titles for this post- good dialogs, a coincidental part of any good movie - the day when seemingly random noises made so much sense. Thanks to larger than life status of Rajnikanth and Chiranjeevi - most of us who were born and brought up north of the vindyas have a sort of generic condemnation for south indian movies. We generally have a predisposed condemnation for this form of entertainment. Being from kgp I had free access to all kinds of movies being fresh out of kgp is more significant in this context.

I like to learn the language of the place I stay in. So i had asked for a few telegu movies primarily to have a nice laugh and pick up a few words. The movie in question was happy days. Wow what a flashback of the last five memorable years. Although i am from a purely residential campus and the movie was set in quasi residential college- there are moments that simply transcend the capabilities of 65000 shades rainbow dancing in my 22" lcd monitor. The n number of trips I had to the beaches of Sankarpur and their memories chocked my eyes as I saw Chandu and his group dance with the waves.

I never thought the name Tyson could evoke sympathy and admiration in my heart till I watched this movie. Since I did not know the storyline, I kept hoping till the last lines of credit rolled out that university of Minnesota or its ramoji imitation will greet my eyes. Alas !!
We normally associate high pitched ridiculous action and "mind its" over aged heroes in south Indian movies. How wrong I was.

Only emotion I could not relate to was girls getting jealous. It is just not possible to see those emotions in a skewed environment as that of kgp. I want to continue on and on but am sort of words. My post seems like a ridiculous attempt in English to pay tribute to the movie I watched without sub titles - not a matter of choice but lack of it- i had 2 cd versioin but net only has 1 dvd version srt files.Very few movies make a normal person develop such strong emotions for all characters. Even fewer movies make me watch the same movie again without forwarding ."Happy Days" did just that.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Facebook reaxions to my claims of being molested. Nothing serious abt the matter !!!

Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika my flatmates turning gay. have been physically molested 2 day :(

Sat at 19:04 · ·
Resham Sarkar
Resham Sarkar
I would want to believe that this has a typo. :) or :( ?
Sat at 19:20 · Delete
Maulik Kamdar
Maulik Kamdar
back to business after a dry span :P....
Sat at 21:11 · Delete
Biswajyoti Pal
Biswajyoti Pal
thats becoz u r so cute.....
Sat at 22:40 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
@resham it was :(. i dont like being physically manhandled consentual stuffs ok.

@maulik n biswas yaar i m yr senior kuch to sharam kar
Yesterday at 01:25 · Delete
Akshay Sharma
Yesterday at 03:17 · Delete
Biswajyoti Pal
Biswajyoti Pal
doga ghussa kyun ho rahe hai aap? wat is not happening to u is not right..... but no one can deny the fact the fact that you r cute.....
Yesterday at 03:45 · Delete
Ritesh Parikh
Ritesh Parikh
wht??shobhit ki sam??
Yesterday at 04:47 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
yes arikh bapu no longer takes care of kids when i was screaming for help he ws telling sam where he should toch me n i was just out of bathroom mujhe bachao !!!!!
Yesterday at 07:42 · Delete
Ritesh Parikh
Ritesh Parikh
abb bas tum bhi duniya ke behkaawe mein aa gaye...woh farishte jaisa lagne waala insaan asliyaat mein ek shaitaan hai :D ...bach ke rehna usse...
Yesterday at 09:28 · Delete
Shobhit Gupta
Shobhit Gupta
Oye molested doga...dont cry...this is a lesson for u not to roam naked in the apartment when kaam waali bai's are there...and it was Sam who explored those "sides" of Doga :P
Yesterday at 09:31 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
sobhit dirty mind. its like blaming someone being raped for their clothes and bapu u got a responsibility to kids
Yesterday at 09:34 · Delete
Shobhit Gupta
Shobhit Gupta
Saale ab padha likha ke kamau bana diya hai...kab tak baap ke upper bojh bana rahega...go ahead and face the real urself...who seduce flatmates with silky soft skin.
Yesterday at 09:47 · Delete
Shamik Ganguly
Shamik Ganguly
doga this was subtle parenting on shobhit's part ... if he had not staged the intervention, u wud have been molested by ur bai ... now who wud u rather be molested by ... sam or ur bai ?? lesson learnt : dont dress provocatively :D
Yesterday at 11:03 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
@ shamik my ex roomie i miss a safe roomie like u. you are the straightest person possible :D
Yesterday at 11:47 · Delete
Subhojit Chakladar
Subhojit Chakladar
doga ... if u ever run for politics (or any of ur roomies does) ... this line's gonna come back to haunt u then!!!! :P
Yesterday at 12:13 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
it will n i wont get a nobel prize like obama
Yesterday at 14:15 · Delete
Vaibhav Singh
Vaibhav Singh
huh dnt be a Rakhee sawant...first u arouse them and then complain of molestation :P
Yesterday at 15:13 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
lodu even u taking pot shots at me. you yr true saathi @ kgp
Yesterday at 15:48 · Delete
Subhojit Chakladar
Subhojit Chakladar
isn't this supposed to be the DTW spirit? ... when someone's backside is being pounded ... jump on the bandwagon!
@doga ... don't worry ... every 'dark' episode has its bright side ... u might get the sympathy votes in Stockholm for this incident ... u might kiss back the culprits then :P
Yesterday at 15:57 · Delete
Subhojit Chakladar
Subhojit Chakladar
u know something ... kgpians do deserve the nobel ... afterall we are totally committed to the pursuit of PEACE!!
Yesterday at 15:58 · Delete
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika
i disagree with u chako we kill (maro) peace not bachao peace
Yesterday at 15:59 · Delete
Subhojit Chakladar
Subhojit Chakladar
oh yeah baby ... thats stellar :D
Yesterday at 16:53 · Delete
Ritesh Parikh
Ritesh Parikh
rakhi sawant...hahaha mast comparison!!!
7 hours ago · Delete

Friday, October 30, 2009

Ruminations on the years gone by

"The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones" : William Shakespeare.

A fictional piece intended to raise raw emotions in a mob inclined on forgetting the treachery enacted in the corridors of power of Rome. Like everything written by Shakespeare, you can interpret these exhibits of superhuman wizardry over words to suit you needs. I too indulged in the same. There are moments in our life that make us inexplicably happy, makes us want to scream in joy loud enough to snap our vocal chords so that those joyous screams get mortalized as the last sound vibe emanating from out mundane existence.

As i enact those moments in my conscious and sub conscious minds, i cannot fail to appreciate the single thread that binds those moments together is the element of surprise. There is no such thing as a pleasant surprise.

The earliest such surprise that my Alzheimer free brain can think of dates back to the early nineties- 1994 to be precise- I was in class three. Had not achieved much till then. was a mediocre at school who somehow managed to get a double promotion. Was the opposite of being an athlete. My only claim to fame probably was that I was the cutest person in the co-ed school. We had a 10 minutes break after two classes. My cheeks used to ache after that. In fact one of my teacher remarked that i am only fair guy in my class much to the displeasure of a few of my classmates. So coming to the pleasant surprise. I was asked by one of our neighbours to go and watch a quiz competition. The quiz was open to students up to class 8. So, I went. I thing led to another and I found myself participating in a team with another guy from class five. The quiz was a written one. So, the results were not declared immediately. Guess what we were third by getting five out of 30 questions right :D. The winner had around 20 questions right. But boy my joy knew no bounds !!!That certificate remains the most wrinkled piece of paper I still treasure. I got many a certificates after that but that one remains special.

Next surprise fast forwards my life to 2002. I was in Assam then- upper Assam. I just heard of IIT a year back and wanted to get in. But nobody I knew any of the interiors of any of the IITs. I had a row with my best friend that year. So, had spent the better part of the year trying to find out how to get into IIT. For a reality check, I though I should give NTSE exam. I was a student of the state board and the scholastic part of the NTSE was from CBSE board. And like JEE, nobody I knew had cleared NTSE. Anyways I gave the exam. I had no faith in the way our answer scripts were going to be corrected in class 10th boards. This lack of faith was vindicated when my entire school was awarded 66 in English. I gave NTSE so that I can back my claim that my state board sux in evaluation. On the day I was leaving for Delhi to apply for schools, I read the paper. The paper had my name. I was fourth in the state. prelims of NTSE So, I left for Delhi armed with evidence that my state board sux. Moreover, our state had a reputation for declaring results late rather late.


My life in kgp revolved around extra acads- kshitj, tech gc ,placement committee work and alumni cell- necessarily in that order :D. When I joined kshitj or ktj as we affectionately call it. It was not so big as it is today. I was primarily involved in events in Ktj but the biggest surprise came in spons. Me and chuha went to Delhi for our DP trip. DP as in Durga Puja-- this trip is the time when we go out wiht a begging bowl to organize the fest that has become a phenomenon now. The year before the entire member team had collected around 20 k. Not even a single penny came from Delhi. Me and chuha were given target of 20 k from Delhi. By that time our entire member team had collected 2k from one months worth of calling. With modest hopes, I landed in Delhi and within an hr of my reaching Delhi, i started cannibalizing SF(:D)- the cult fest our bigger brother back then. By afternoon I had 8 k. Chuha had arrived by then, we then decided to meet one alum who was not so inclined on giving us money. I dont know what struck me but i started talking to him about an ad. Chuha was getting frustrated by my side thinking we lost the money - why will someone sponsor us after hearing the nonsense i was blabbering. But I was in the midst of a Midas touch then and he backed me adding a few more nonsensical sentences.When I had finished, we got a cheque of 15 k. We had achieved our trips target in one day. We somehow held our nerves for a few moments and once beyond the visible range of Mr. Subhash Kalia - we indulged in mad celebrations. We got many more sponsorship deals - probably bigger in volume but first time surprise tastes sweet.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

The heroes of a defective piece

On of the most nonsensical things, I do is that of browsing through the long list of status messages of my long list of g talk friends. One of these messages pertained to George Bernard Shaw or GBS as he is popularly known. He was one of my childhood heroes not because I was a great fan of his writing or his wit of which i came to know much later. Someone told me he had migraine that was it. I have always had migraine for as long as i can remember. As my flatmate (Sam) says, I am a defective piece in whom God packed a multitude of maladies and bestowed the in-flinching determination to tide over them. Sometimes I feel like GOD must really be liking the daily colossal battles between my mind and the body and that of my body with my body. In those dark moments as i searched for a wall to bang my head or a hammer to hit my forehead, names such as GBS inspired me to carry on. Although, i did break a few cricket bats and walls, my skull was apparently strong enough to withstand the barrage of assaults. Those strategic hits to my head were not out of frustration or despondence but they were temporary retrieve from the throbbing pain that was wrecking my head. A painful distraction from the chronic pain that was killing me within and yet not allowing me to die.


Another name that has been in the news of late is Wasim Akram. He was a great bowler, a great person but above all he was a great fighter. He was a diabetic. For the infinitely small number of readers of my blog who don't know about it- I am a 23 year old diabetic - who was diagnosed with this killer at the age of 21. But I have been a devotee of Akram for much longer. As many of you might be knowing , you are usually born with diabetes,as the child of a diabetic father and diabetic mother and grandson of a diabetic grandfather, I knew of this eventuality long before the actual diagnosis. Periodically my father used to not do so well with his health and used to bitch a bit a bout the disease. To cheer him up, I used to talk about Akram. I idolize Akram for all those talk i had with my father. When i was diagnosed, my parents were in tears. My father did not cry in front of me but I knew he did. As for my mother, she suspected i got it even before the doctors told her so all the rivers in the world were flowing from her eyes. I was the only one least affected, at least I had to pretend to . So, I started one of the essays on Akram.

On a lighter note, I am now desperately looking for the hero who would inspire me to win my other fight - win over the heart of my current crush or become a playboy.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

beauty and sexy

In the twilight of my teenage years, sexy had an devilish forbidden tinge to the emotions and reactions evoked. But beauty was always beautiful, always good, always heavenly, always worshiped.

That brings out the question before me today what is beautiful and who is sexy. Even this very question has in it a few threads of the fabric on which i shall attempt to answer this question to myself.Rather it is probably my flawed interpretations that results in the based use of the words who and what. This gangotric bias means i search for abstract beauty and material sexiness.

Thanks to the lots of page 3, we often come across rankings of the most beautiful and sexy personalities, actress, celebrities and even first ladies. now what is that makes Hema Malini or a Megan Fox beautiful in the eyes of the scribes.The truth is I don't know.One documentary i saw in my kgp days tries to answer this question in terms of mathematical ratios, the host who is the new Q of james bond franchise compared the ratios of his own face and that of Liz hurley :D.

But I am still not convinced, I have five sense organs and a mind that dreams and dreams a lot. The only guiding light I acknowledge as light is the statement by keats "A thing of beauty is joy forever". Joy that can enter your hearts through eyes,ears,touch,nose, tongue and even lazy ruminations of the days gone by.Since Keats had no words for sexy, I shall stick to the mathematical definition of sexy or as sheldon told abt his sister in big bang theory "having the right amount in right places". This may be sexist post, but it is intensely personal n hence contains a guys perspective.

This is more of a monologue to me counting the infinite number of reasons as to why i feel ******* is the most beautiful person I have ever met in my life. Since my liking for her is destined to go unrequited, I have made a zillion attempts to like someone else to declare some as more beautiful, but i guess I am the hitler of 1944 fighting on two doomed fronts. For those of who dont know who ******* is, it will stay that way but I guess a bulk of the people who read my blabber know who she is. Unfortunately she no longer reads my blog I guess. As regards to things photographs are probably the most beautiful things man can make and corals and Arunachal the second most beautiful things God can make.

Talking about sexy, it has a very mundane connotations, at least for me, I may find my worst enemy to be sexy but I don't think they will ever be beautiful, a person for whom I will risk my life. I don't think i am selfless enough to say I like someone more than me, but probably things and persons I consider beautiful would precede me on my only escape ladder. I guess the post has already turned out to be long enough, so i try to put toppers of my sexy list.
********** (Don't ask me why I don't know )
Jessica Alba
Megan Fox
lamborgini
concorde

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Threat to not so original and original research


Students are poor.At least not rich enough to afford many things based on money they earn.So they (I was a part of this common noun till six months back), resort to wiki. Hence political vendetta like above really puts a question mark on innovative research carried out by some of the officially brightest brains in india

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Law of averages and Instant Karma

My favorite TV series is house m.d.

I have had several reasons for liking it for the past year and a half as i compresses six(and counting) seasons of entertainment in these months. It will not be an overstatement to say that my pathological suspicion about the quality of any three hour long marathon coming from bollywood has more to do with TV series than any Hollywood blockbuster. For just like bollywood, every Hollywood movie has one theme, some great evil strikes and some American guy(or the occasional Brit Commodore Bond) saves the world doing stunts that would put Mithun at his inglorious worst to same. Yet, I am an Engineer(at least my degree says so :)) hence I find myself marveling at the technical briliance. This is not to say that Hollywood movies are not great, I saw the dark knight -five minutes-travelling 120 kms to the nearest multiplex. Even back home, we have had works like Taare Zameen Pe, Black, Jhonny Gaddar and the likes. But good movies are usually an aberration than anything else.

Talking about my favorite House M.D. (and for people who do not think my show is the best- I really like Boston Legal, HIMYM,Big Bang,Prison Break and the rest abd I hate South Park and Friends) , it satisfies my craving for comedy,mystery, digital lust(Lisa Cuddy rocks!!). Also for the bulk of months,I have galloping the sound bytes and visual kilobytes, the tv series closely mirrored life. I was diagonised with diabetes, some results (actually almost all) interpreted it as type 1, but one doctor said it might be 2, he conjured a test which told that there is possibility of type 2. So, like House usually does, the doctor put me on some mixed therapy for a year,if the therapy succeeded, it meant I had type 2 (MTV :D) mind it type 1 treatment for type 2 can be fatal.

But there are so many reasons (many of them emanating from the fact that you just like) for liking something or someone. For that matter, although incongruous,there can be a single reason for disliking or not disliking something or someone (one of them being you like something/someone too much to spare any of you hormones to dislike). So, why do I like House, its funny, it gives hope, it celebrates brilliance, it celebrates the innate goodness in every person, its protagonists are flawed persons. Above, it trusts the intelligence of the viewers, it does not enforce any particular point of view.This week's episode was one such example. Like in every other episode a random dialogue triggers House's enlightenment yet it leaves it blank whether karma does have role.

Now as to why I am writing my first blog on a tv-series,I watch almost everyday. Some part of me wants to believe in law of averages. Maybe I have had the better share of luck throughout of life, but my skewed and screwed arithmetic always says that till now, I have frequently brushed the ugly side of luck. When I look at the obviously incorrect (or maybe correct) numbers(nothing to do with the tv series), I just hope and get a positive vibe for the one thing( or person) I so dearly like.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Why Obama can and I cant

Well when we thought winning presidency for a black was difficult, and elevated "yes we can" to the higher pedestal of inspiring quotes. It seems Obama can do a lot more things none of which includes things like killing reviving economy,creating jobs,combating illness that kills people. He can kill scores of people and then win a noble peace prize.

He can give grant to terrorists to kill innocents, kill innocents, dance like w*** to the Chinese tunes, partake in the death of democracy in afghanistan, do nothing about Myanmar, try to arrest development of developing nations under the garb of environmental and other labour issues.Yes, he can, yes he can

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

Inglorious Basterd

Many a golden replicas of the famous lady whose name has been mysteriously hidden by my beloved wikipedia - which, in fact goes on to say, she is a famous he :D- lie in the possession of artistic giants that dwell on the untold human sufferings of the second world war. So, I had serious difficulty in accepting this pigment of imagination. Having said this, I reiterate that I remain a devoted fan of wikipedia and shall continue to ignore these glitches.

I intend to make this post a short and precise affair. Inglorious basterd was a glorious celebration of human creativity and artistic prowess. The climax was too great. It was just too awesome. It portrays the actors as human, selfish persons who can do anything to survive not as saints and demons. Yet you cant help feeling pity for some and contempt for others. One digression I liked about this movie was the liberal use of creative liberty be it the spelling or the plotline. All in all a great take on alternative reality that many would wish was real

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Wake Up Sid

After a lot of initial hesitations, I picked up the courage to watch the first day show of a hindimovie. After movies like kambakht ishq, you cant help getting scared. Nevertheless, even gundacan be enjoyed with friends.(Correction: gunda is a cult movie, even drona can be watched with friends). So, I went to the theatres with no expectations whatsoever. This is probably the best thing to do before every movie or rather almost every day of your life. Having no positive expectations makes your life sound like a musical composition drained of all forms of melancholy notes. Unfortunately, I still got a few expectations and hence get upset and disappointed a few times.

Coming to the movie, there are things I liked and things I did not. Something, I am usually incapable of doing. I either like something/one or I just plainly hate them. Things I hated, its neither easy nor cheap to set up an apartment. We are three IITians and it broke our back to set up our small flat @ Hyderabad. I cant imagine the cost of setting up and renting a sea facing apartment @ Mumbai. I just could not palate this part of the movie.

Things I liked: music especially the song iktara, the audience, some of the girls were hot really hot, as Nitin Goyal put it I was gasping for breath as a smoking hot beauty in red top and black skirt passed by.Another thing I liked was the lack of melodrama. Also there were elements of nostalgia. I am not the son of a super rich dad, but I am the only son of my parents and I was(rather am) a spoilt kid. When you are single child, you have a different relationship with your parents, they are your sibling cum parents. So, I have had a lot of fights @ home, I have left home umpteen number of times. So, the home fights and reconciliation though predictable were a bit touchy for me and probably, I was the only guy in the theatre to shed a few drops of tear.


Wednesday, September 23, 2009

unrequited Love of my unrequited love

I plead, I beg, I scream, I pray I cry
for it to leave me alone
Yet it still comforts my eyes
When I cry all alone.

When my eyes scream
"No more tears to rain"
It make me dream
About Dancing in the rain
With the one I wish I live on till eternity
And my tears go away to the distant island of reality.

Requited love is only a crown of thorns
that forever conspires to keep you forlorn.
The pain of parting makes your heart shiver in fear
You need your ears to hear
You need your mind to listen
What the nose might have spoken
You need your skin to tell that she is actually here
To reassure your mind that you are near
To the one who is so dear.

In unrequited love, I meet, I kiss, I love my love
When I wish,when I want where I claim
For I can dream when i wish, where I want.
I need no music, no sight, no fragrance, no touch
For I can dream what I want and how I want
For I am the love of unrequited love .

Yet I wish for the crown of thorns

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Auto-Rickshaws

First of all I got a confession to make as to why I am writing a post that is neither a review of the latest movie I had seen, the last novel I read or one of my infinitely long cribbing about my lack of any luck with the opposite gender. I never intended to write this post, all morning I was thinking of the title to my blog on the ray of hope called Salman Rushdie. Since, it does not seem remotely possible that any girl will fall for me in the near future and my firm resolve to not be the only person in my generation in my immediate family to indulge in arranged marriage, it seems I will get a girl only when I am fifty and rich and famous. The positives about such wishful thinking is that at least I will try to be rich and famous till I am fifty. It is another matter whether I get a Padma Lakshmi or not. Actually I am just trying to imitate an ostrich when I say it is another matter for my only two crushes crushed some of my best friendships I had cultivated. Of course wisdom prevailed in round two and I salvaged the wreckage to some extent.
Now that I have accomplished drawing tangents around the topic of the post, I guess its time to draw the diameter, I did not want another round of curses as I forced my net savvy friends and juniors to publicize my post and post comments.

With the confession settled I guess its time to fill the dots. For those of us who does not own a vehicle, public transport is a story of everyday life. For bachelors like me, invariably it is the auto. Having left kgp sometime back, I am now more or less settled in Hyderabad. I usually commute to and from work in an auto. My life has seen me settle down temporarily in many places from the idyllic village called rohmoria in Assam, which has since been swallowed by the Brahmaputra to the concrete jungles of Delhi, Kolkata and the island called Kharagpur. Besides, my frequent battles with my health sees me traveling to Chennai pretty frequently. All these experiences have inculcated in me a pathological suspicion towards the person who drives the rickshaw or taxi or auto. Here in Hyderabad, most autos ply by the government approved rates unlike other parts of India. But every now and then someone hikes up the price, it has the immediate effect of waking up my hibernating bargaining skills. I now usually drive a hard bargain,scream over a few rupees. Amongst all these, there is one particular auto driver who usually takes me to office when I am late, he always charges the right amount. Yesterday he was asking how much I earn and in which building I work. I felt kind of awkward, and replied I earn enough to more than comfortably feed myself. He then ask do I earn around twenty thousand. I said I earn a bit more. The conversation ended therein.

Today morning again I took an auto to my house , the auto demanded 30, I finally got it settled for 25. Probably, I will indulge in the same again. The thing is who is overpaid and who is not. What is the right price for the trip, I dont know. Till then my pathological suspicion will continue to rule my head.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

KAMINEY

There are few very few works of art that evoke a very strong feeling of gratitude towards the creator. Very few creations evokes a singular emotion of wanting to bombard our sense of sight and hearing till our eyes go blind, eardrums bursts or our dear wallets revolt. Yesterday I came across one such work of art the bollywood movie called kaminey.

For a change all the dialogues made sense, all the plots,subplots, reactions made sense. He made us laugh with our lungs using muscles that had been dormant for a zillion years, he made us watch in awe with our neurons rejoicing every paisa of the money spent. For the first time, I saw fear in the eyes of the person holding a gun and it made all sense. I saw on screen couples using lines that made sense. I saw the most frightened face ever seen on a on screen bridegroom.It all made sense. I saw a politician and his rhetoric, his vulnerabilities and his conflicted emotions.I saw a hero run away from the heat of fight for he had to care for his child.

Even minute things like the diabetes of the local don is neatly woven into the storyline. All in all a movie to enthrall all your senses. Do your neurons a well deserved favour.

Friday, July 3, 2009

Terminator damnation

Certain artists create an air anticipation. When ones favorite movie watched legally in a theater and the only movie watched multiple times is the dark knight, one just wishes for time to fly by to cut short the long days and months to pass by and be awed at the marvel of human creativity. Alas, many a hopes are damned to be unfulfilled. With bated breath, I ventured towards BigCinemas at Ameerpeth to have a glimpse and to enthralled by Christain Bales latest movie "Terminator Salvation".

At first I thought I was lucky to get the best possible seats without any advance booking.Well law of averages is valid. My luck ran out or rather the colective luck of entire audience ran out.The movie was a shocker. The story was ridiculous and had no credibility even after suspension of disbelief. The acting was less than what is visible in one dimensional photo shoots. To rub salt in the wounds, there were no hot scenes.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

Mystery,Action,Politics,Crime,Revenge,deceit,basic instincts and the triumph of love

This is one of the firsts o my life. No my first birthday or my first love or my first proposal not my first blog but my first blog for whose net time I had to pay wit my wallet.Most of my posts have been the child of a menage a trois between free internet, wella time and my self assumed command over English.Hence this is small first wherein i Have moved my ass from my room to a cyber cafe and am typing my thoughts on a god forsaken key board.My current state takes me back to the tears I shed for half an hours after I had flipped the last pages of olivers heart break @ love story.

So here I am writing another load of crap after 3 years. The culprit is the same Eric Segal. This month I read four novels Ambler warning, Doomsday conspiracy, Dead on Time and Mea,Woman and Child.Four different genres, four different authors.Till the time of Ambler warning,I was of the firm opinion that no director can do proper justice to an authors literary prowess, I thoroughly enjoyed the visions imparted by Peter Jackson to JRR Tolkein's middle world but somehow I felt something was missing.It was definitely the closest I saw a director doing justice to literature.The harry Potters and even the great Capolla found me among the disgruntled minority.

Well I was in for some surprise. I thoroughly enjoyed Bourne supremacy. So now I had a new God to worship -"Robert Ludlum". In my lazy meanderings through odyssey -a bookshop @ Hyd- I picked up a copy of his novel Rudlum. With great expectations and hopes, I sat down to read this work. But it was shit,deep shit,horse shit, bull shit and all combined in one. Well, I get that certain works of imagination requires suspension of disbelief like the great "Gunda", but reading is a brain indulging activity.You just cannot switch of your logical brain in that fashion. Mr Ludlum, some deputy secretary of US state department cannot create a war. One person can never be so powerful.This novel was supposed to be a novel but 200 pages before the mystery was revealed I was hoping the mystery i guess was wrong. Well they were some of the false hopes of my life. To sum up, some directors can create great movies from pieces of shit. After a more than brief break necessitated by non ergonomic keyboard and paid net time, I am resuming my blog on four novels I read in the past two weeks. Ludlums work was about mystery and action at least it advertised itself as one. After reading this novel,another thing that made my mind flutter how come all novels have such great reviews pasted on their back pages. It would be easy to curse corruption but I would like to believe that not all agree with me and someone might like the novels I hate.They do sell.

The next novel, I pounced upon during my exceedingly jobless training period was "Doomsday conspiracy" by Sidney Sheldon.As a matter of fact, I did have some immoral motives in reading the book.As I would like to put it Sheldon tales are good with lots of twists and turns but certain primitive behavioral aspects of mankind are better illustrated. So, I started reading this book hoping to be entertained.After Ambler warning, this piece was definitely entertaining to say the least. It had a bit of suspense, a bit of inhumanity amongst humans, deceit and the almost predictable villain in the guise of a saint. I might have liked this book primarily because my expectations from a novel had declined drastically.But i guess the reason de maitre was the fact that the need of suspension of disbelief was firmly established in the first few pages.This meant I could digest the incredible ending. But in means can decent novels be insulted by clubbing this book in the same pedestal.This book was ridiculous it shows a serious lack of application of brains. At least scientific brains. If we are to encounter an alien they would never look like creatures we saw in ET. They will be different. In fact ET was a step better. The alien there was any other creature not a GOD.How things unfolded from the chamber of the doctor to the arrest of the admiral is never revealed nor is anything said about the saint who was made to look like the devil from the beginning.

Having upgraded myself from Ludlum to Sheldon, I still found myself in search of one masterpiece to fortify my belief in joy from fiction. A book that took me in the corner of existence not registered in any of the gps devices. I picked up the long haired economist Lord Meghnad Desai's Dead on Time. This book had nothing to do with economics but was a realistic albeit exxagarated account of power play doing the rounds in the arena of politics.I would not dwell much on the plot for I shall not be half as good as the master in naratting the same thing.IF you like power play at the highest levels,you got to read it; if you dont like political dramas, you got to read it;if you like human cunning, if you like see the role of fate in changing the course of (hi)story then read it, even if you dont like any of the things I have mentioned read it. If you can read English then read it, if you cant read it pester a friend to read it and narrate the story to you.

Now about the title of this, it ends with the oft quoted words "triumph of love". I am not here to give a sermon on the power of love. But I do feel tempted to quote the opening lines of the funny movie "love actually", it draws upon experiences of people about to die, they invariably remember the moments of love. Maybe love is indeed a very strong emotion.This novel had only one emotion,it had the simplest of story lines. Yet it flooded my eyes.The novel in question was "Man,woman and child" by Eric Segal. The emotions he conveyed through simple dialogues were universal and heartwarming.IT reminded me of what one of my seniors at college told while recommending "a love story" by the same author- if you are in love you got to read it. If you are not in love, just read it once and you will fall in love. I have only one complement for this book -"If you can read read this book, if you cant read learn to read and then read it", you wont like to bid adieu to the world without shedding a few tears for what you know to be pure fiction and imaginary and yet somehow you feel sad, you hear voices, you feel emotions you have never felt before.

I shall now try to use my logical ability to play as I try to wind up this post.The triumph of love is not my own fictional creation but simple the fact a simple novel with a simple story appealed to more than three other novels of diferent genres.


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

lost in translation

For the infinitesimally small chunk of random people who happen to come across this page without going through my status message, I was born in Assam and have spent a large chunk of my life outside it. Currently I call Hyderabad, Andhra Pradesh as my hometown. Among other things common to our generation,I find myself most comfortable in English even more than my mother tongue a few pronunciations might be off the chart but you are less likely to find me bewildered if you are using the words approved by some wise men and women sitting in Oxford.

Hence in this state of affairs, translations have been a cousin of oxygen I breathe. TO be certified as civilized, we are supposed to greet people, our nursery teacher made us lip sync good morning, good afternoon.India is a museum of celebrations I celebrated Bihu, English new year among the plethora of other festivals.The English way of wishing is prefixing the word Happy or merry. We have "Happy New Year","Merry Christmas" but we also wish "Happy Diwali" and "Shubh Diwali" but not "Good Diwali".Strange are the rules of translation.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The Making of DOGA

I guess many of you might know DOGA as a white fat chinki seen during ktj times.In fact there have been days in kgp when nobody called me by my hindu name "Himangshu Jyoti Hazarika". Before I joined this organization, I had to look around if some one uttered Himangshu to ensure it was I who was adressed to. For the uninitiated DOGA was my nick name @ IIT Kharagpur.It is an acronym for "Dean of Gay Affairs".

The acronym says a lot but you wont hget a clearer picture if you are not in kgp. Although I have nothing against gay, lesbians, I am not one. I am in fact an unabashed supporters of the rights of sexual minorities.I also realise that there are numerous rumours as to how I got this all too striking name.There were no record breaking smocches or any other physical activity. I hereby go on record unlike many ppl I have never kissed a junior(guy) by force, have never had any physical interaction with my senior guys. Since everything is in kgp context, all physical intercations are assumed to bet between guys anything else does not need a blog to be known to kgpians - last of all my blog. However I have been at the receiving end of many a males affection, I can't help that I am cuter than most if not all.

So, again reverting to the title of the post. In our first year, we had a guy called Abhishek Satapathy who proudly proclaimed to have a girl friend and a boy friend. In his own words he was bi. This was done in broad daylight in front of a professor and a first year class who were not yet familiar to the concept of bukning.So, it was news, it was breaking news.Now, in the long class hours where we understod nothing except when to respond to roll calls, we started conducting polls. Kgp has a dean for evrything from student affairs to academics to so on and so forth. We also have a DOPA(nothing to do with dope but everything to do with another form of adult entertainment). My batch mates thgought we needed a new dean for gay affairs so that people can explore other avenues in the island where God decreed that only one half of human species shall reside.This need catalyzed by the Satapathy affair resulted in a poll. Of course Satapathy was the front runner but although I did not file any nomination whatsoever, I found myself a close second.It was probably cos I was more molestable I guess. On my part, I never objected to any form of physical advance.

The next chapter of this story was played at the glorious NCC camp.In this camp the official DOGA Satapathy was not there, so at the very outset, I was appointed acting DOGA.Herein, we had to share the same floor, our mattresses got intertwinned and often I found myslef on my neighbours bed. SInce we had to run early morning in bone shattering chill, we often hudled together to warm ourselves. Interestingly, some more queer things happened, we devised a modified GPL, a pilow would be placed on someone, and a group of people would perform a sort of simple harmonic motion over the poor guy. We called this choda, I shall not elaborate on this matter on account of decency.The important thing is that choda was magnetically attracted to me. It followed wherever I went. One thing led to other and I found myself becoming the one and only original DOGA of kharagpur.

Central characters:
me, HAnsraj Mishra, Subrat Panda, Pankaj Chauhan and all from flight 4 AIR NCC IIT KGP

Monday, June 15, 2009

Adieu to five fun filled summers

It is funny but interesting that a word like myopia found itself an adjective cousin and is now reserved a whip to be wielded by the wielder of pen and keyboards on unsuspecting mortals. But at some level or another we are all myopic. In the physical, there is only a few hundred metres registered by our eyes.Even at a more intrinsic level, our memories fade as time flies by. But some landmarks do beat this trend. These memories stay on with us till we close our eyes in the grave. Not too long ago or rather five long years back, I was packing my bags, embracing myself for any form of ragging that might take place at an alien place called Kharagpur, a place I called home for five of my most memorable years of my life.

Having completed this phase of my life,I now find myself at a very interesting junction.I find myself bereft of words to describe how I feel. I am not sad, I am not overjoyed at leaving the calm village which we often likened to a prison. But every moment I brood over never fails to bring a smile on my face.But it is kind of strange to say the least. Phrases like "you can take a kgpian out of kgp but cant take kgp out of a kgpian" seems true.As things are I cant write all I want in this post.So, I shall try to write a semi autobiography.I hope they all fan out as funny. And most importantly, I would like to thank all my seniors, juniors and batchmates for feeling so many joyous moments in my life.

Saturday, May 30, 2009

I am proud of being ruled by the British

Today, with the balance and perspective offered by the passage of time and the benefit of hindsight, it is possible for an Indian Prime Minister to assert that India's experience with Britain had its beneficial consequences too. Our notions of the rule of law, of a Constitutional government, of a free press, of a professional civil service, of modern universities and research laboratories have all been fashioned in the crucible where an age old civilization met the dominant Empire of the day. These are all elements which we still value and cherish. Our judiciary, our legal system, our bureaucracy and our police are all great institutions, derived from British-Indian administration and they have served the country well.

Of all the legacies of the Raj, none is more important than the English language and the modern school system. That is, if you leave out cricket! Of course, people here may not recognise the language we speak, but let me assure you that it is English! In indigenising English, as so many people have done in so many nations across the world, we have made the language our own. Our choice of prepositions may not always be the Queen's English; we might occasionally split the infinitive; and we may drop an article here and add an extra one there. I am sure everyone will agree, however, that English has been enriched by Indian creativity as well and we have given you R.K. Narayan and Salman Rushdie. Today, English in India is seen as just another Indian language.

The idea of India as enshrined in our Constitution, with its emphasis on the principles of secularism, democracy, the rule of law and, above all, the equality of all human beings irrespective of caste, community, language or ethnicity, has deep roots in India's ancient civilization. However, it is undeniable that the founding fathers of our republic were also greatly influenced by the ideas associated with the age of enlightenment in Europe. Our Constitution remains a testimony to the enduring interplay between what is essentially Indian and what is very British in our intellectual heritage.

The idea of India as an inclusive and plural society, draws on both these traditions. The success of our experiment of building a democracy within the framework of a multi-cultural, multi-ethnic, multi-lingual and multi-religious society will encourage all societies to walk the path we have trodden. In this journey, both Britain and India have learnt from each other and have much to teach the world. This is perhaps the most enduring aspect of the Indo-British encounter.

It used to be said that the sun never sets on the British Empire. I am afraid we were partly responsible for sending that adage out of fashion! But, if there is one phenomenon on which the sun cannot set, it is the world of the English speaking people, in which the people of Indian origin are the single largest component.

No Indian has paid a more poetic and generous tribute to Britain for this inheritance than Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore. In the opening lines of his Gitanjali, Gurudev says:

"The West has today opened its door.
There are treasures for us to take.
We will take and we will also give,
From the open shores of India's immense humanity."

To see the India - British relationship as one of 'give and take', at the time when he first did so, was an act of courage and statesmanship. It was, however, also an act of great foresight. As we look back and also look ahead, it is clear that the Indo-British relationship is one of 'give and take'. The challenge before us today is to see how we can take this mutually beneficial relationship forward in an increasingly inter-dependent world.I wish to end by returning to my alma mater. Oxford, since the 19th century, has been a centre for Sanskrit learning and the study of Indian culture. The Boden professorship in Sanskrit, and the Spalding professorship in Eastern Religions and Ethics, stand testimony to the university's commitment to India and Indian culture. I recall with pride the fact that the Spalding professorship was held by two very distinguished Indians: Dr S. Radhakrishnan, who later became the President of India, and by Dr. Bimal Krishna Matilal. In the context of the study and preservation of Indian culture, I also wish to recall the contribution of another Oxonian, Lord Curzon, about whose project to preserve and restore Indian monuments, Jawaharlal Nehru said, "After every other Viceroy has been forgotten, Curzon will be remembered because he restored all that was beautiful in India."


Words of Dr. Manmohan Singh, prime minister of India and possibly the single biggest reason why we as a country is today economically solvent.Thus I start my defense of my belief why I believe English should not be replaced with Hindi in India. My most fundamental objection to English bashers is hypocrisy. One of these enlight(dark)ened folks said that if I am proud of India's economic might on account of our command of english, I should be proud of being ruled by the British and that I should be proud of the fact that we as a nation should be proud of the fact that we were a colony of British.so, here I am waging my war in the digital domain.

I shall try to establish my case on the following grounds
1)Hypocrisy
2)Need of Diversity
3)Dynamic state of any culture

Dwelling on the hypocrisy part of it, if we are to be ashamed of British rule, we should be ashamed of Aryan rule, we should be ashamed of mughals, we should be ashamed of being civilized. History books abound of tales of how the technically superior at a particular point of time conquered the less advanced societies and moved the wheel of civilization. If there was no invasion, probably we would have still lived in the caves. It is not that flow of knowledge is a one directional stream from the visitors to vanquished its a bidirectional affair.So if we are proud of Taj Mahal, if we are proud of Red fort, if we are proud of Ajanta and Ellora we should be proud of Victoria Memorial, we should be proud of Archaeological survey of India but for which many of these treasures would have been consigned to the dust.
We make no bones about cheering for Indian cricket team but some pseudo nationalist who are more fluent in English than Hindi feel that Hindi should have precedence over English. why should English tat give us bread and butter be the punching bag. Is it not against Indian culture to disrespect food.There is no disagreement over the fact that bulk of us have been ruled by a few since ages, how does it matter if the rulers of 150 years were born in Europe.If we are to be ashamed of British rule, we should be ashamed of parliamentary democracy, fundamental rights magna carta, rule of law. If we are proud of all these, we should be proud of whatever we have achieved under British rule.

Second thing is about diversity: Is language so important in context of nation like India where language can never be unifying factor. Language in a country like India can only be divisive ask the fighters of separate state of Maharastra and Andhra. A few argue that national language is as important as national flag.But by that logic we should also have a state religion. But we cannot in India as India allows it's citizens to practise any faith. then again some might argue that if nobody objects to us speaking our language than what is the problem in enforcing another language. for me Hindi is as foreign a language as French, Latin or Hebrew or English. No matter what you say a person cannot be fluent in all language so Hindi was my third priority with English being the first for economic reasons. I make no bones about it. If Hindi was the lingua franca of the world Hindi would have been my first priority. But real world economics are different.If I have to chose between two alien languages, I would rather chose the one that buys my food and medicines.The some would say that not all people knows English in India. That is definitely because English is not promoted as much as Hindi is by government. If all of India becomes fluent in English, the economic gains will be enormous but it seems politicians only care of their own children go to English medium schools. Merely a fact that more people in India speak Hindi should ot be the reason for its imposition. Moreover more than fifty percent of Indians do not call Hindi as their mother tongue. Well I would not like to dwell too much on statistics for they can be most easily manipulated. But ultimately It remains a fact that India has too many languages to be associated with one language. Then their is logic of why only one national animal, but how does the choice of national animal hurts my pocket. If some symbol can help give national identity without any adverse effects than why not. It may sound selfish but if I am generating revenue for myself and paying my taxes doing honest work than is it not more patriotic than professing love for a language and evading taxes.

Finally dynamic nature of culture: hindi was not spoken in India from ages. It was Sanskrit,Pali, Pakrit culture is an ever changing wheel we should never try to stop this change for it is nothing but a futile exercise.