Sunday, 20 July 2008

poriborton

akash ta ajkal neel nei jeno
ektu ki fyakashe lage na?
dhnoa jetuku ure mishe jai kolkatar bukete
sei gondho ta ar baki thake na

e sei gondher kotha bolchi ami
jake buke tene bishonno batash
mati te norom hat bulie dito
gaye makhie dito meyeder deergho shwash

ghorar keshor gulo elomelo kore dito
sei haoa ta ajo boi naki? moidan jure?
dupur e nidra jeto shohor er pran,ase
chola bhaja becha dokanir chokh jure

ekhono protikkha kore keu keu,
bhabe bodol er bodol hobe konodin
niswa dhulo mesha strand road e tanga
sobdo tulbe ghorar naal er orthoheen

bose theke theke prostor hoe jabo ami
ektu ektu kore ter pai buke
nihsobde hana dichhe faka gohbor
chokh duti gachhe kotore dhuke

chokher majhe sei neel ta dekhte pai
jei neel hariechhe akasher theke
sei haoa boye jai jothore jothore
ke jane khuje more kake

ekhono chhelemanushi kotha ase mukhe
gombhir protyuttor muchhe dai hasi
ekhono uttejona neche othe shirai
nei bhalobasa makha sei chumu rashi

Saturday, 12 July 2008

matal er lekha

maal kheyechhe matale
gachh bhorti kanthale
gof bhorti tel lagale
ki na bole chhagole
ki na khai paagole

botol kholo whiskyr
charpashe te jome bheer
chain khola N'murthyr
pentul khule nache meer
mane binei kori bir bir

chokh holo dhulu dhulu
dunia ke gelam bhulu
botol shes chai more chulu
ekta meye ke boli ILU
thappor khey chotkai ghilu

Wednesday, 30 April 2008

A Journey to remember

Recently I went to attend a friend’s marriage to southern Andhra Pradesh. A district town called Guntur. It was a long boring journey followed by amazing and thought provoking rituals and customs which I had never experienced before. At the same time, it evoked some long lost memories too.

When we were on our way to ponnur village, in Guntur district some 45 mins away from the Guntur town riding an ac qualis, amidst thamil dialogues flowing all over my ears about which I hardly understood a single word, and a telugu song loudly being played in the car radio I was drifting away mentally to a far far away place. Saikat ‘Mấmệ’ Mondol as we fondly used to call him, had his sister’s marriage and all in the hostel of CEMK were invited. Well almost all.

It was a hot hot April. The power plant near by was emitting more and more smokes day by day. And it felt like we have a forest on fire nearby. Days were scorching and nights were no better off. Only a few moments of respite was the cool breeze blowing from the river Rupnarayan.

Many of us were not much eager to go. But I was. There were two reasons for that. Mame requested me a lot for coming like he did to many others, and I am poor guy who can’t say NO. The second reason was that was the chance to spend a night with friends outside hostel in the remotest part of Bengal. I had wild fantasies about rural Bengal. The small huts, green paddy field and bullock carts, the shadow covered ponds and the quiet afternoons. But as they say life is not as rosey as it seems to be in dreams.

[Will update this as I write more :-)]

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

Hostel Part III

Hostel days are gone into the yellowed pages of my past now. And yet so near they are to me. All those bawals, ragging, teasing girls from the darkened hostel balcony, stealing food from canteen, night adventures to Bishu paji’s dhaba come back on idle afternoons. They still cheer me up and enlighten my day.

The other day on yahoo messenger we met. 6 of college mates. Two in London. The rest in the US. And 80% of them married. But all we talked about is hostel. And our life back then.

Lets look at some hostel lingo:

Bawal: verb | a fight, quarrel. Apparently for no good reason.

Magibaz: adjective | a guy who is always after girls and with girls. A rude word usually used for swearing.

Caora: adjective | a guy who is naughty!! Well that’s what I call an understatement.

Bedo: adjective | a guy who is an avid prankster.

Tomar bhai hoechhe: a phrase | usually used to sedate an opponent, a swear sentence meaning you have got a brother. Apparently indicating….. Mail me if you still don’t get the meaning.

*C: an adjective | this is equivalent to the English F word. Anything can be suffixed with a C word meaning you c like that adjective (prefix to C) or by that object etc.

So(n)te: adjective | A guy who is relatively well behaved and well mannered.

Jatha : adjective | A guy who looks considerably older than he actually is. Depending on how old he looks he can be also called kaka.

Kaka: relational adjective | A guy who comes to hostel to sell newspaper, breakfast, food, kabadi, or who is caretaker, who cooks food at canteen, who cleans the campus, in all a guy who is not a student or a teacher. Even a librarian once was referred to as Kaka.

Banka: Noun | the aspiring HOD of EIE (at our time he was aspiring and later on fulfilled his aspiration).

Dobka: Adjective | usually a girl with big boobs.

Pre-Historic Dadu: Noun | The legendary grandfather who looked like a dinosaur who has not been fed for 1 million years. Favourite trend was lighting a cigarette for 2 puffs and then extinguishing it to have it later. An IITian and a respectable figure.

Jackson: Noun | The most respectable figure around. The then HOD of EIE.

Toton: Noun | The Hod of CSE. Needed n no of attempts to utter a word correctly. Where N is his degree of excitement.

TechnoPakhi: Noun | A mate of mine. Nicknamed like this because of his exceptional figure. Needed two underwears to hold the jeans hang on to his waist.

Chhok: Verb | this is machination to get a girl.

KKD: Noun | Many believed he was some sort of relative to the JKD. But one of the most notorious and loved guys around.

Appo: Noun | this is Kolaghat version of Dating. Usually performed on the numerous culverts in the campus or deserted lanes in the township or in minimarket nearby.

Chaton: Noun | Ragging.

I think this much is enough for today. Will come back with more from direct heart of my hostel…

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Breaking Out ... Alone for the first time

I had just given madhyamik.

I was 16 exactly.

And had a 3 months gap in front of me

I wanted to go somewhere…somewhere alone.

Obviously there were huge obstacles….mom's tears and dad's precautionary NO. And to add to the injury there was my sister constantly teasing me as BABU which rightly said is a nickname my mom used to use but in this case became a pain in the arse.

i was adamant

More so because my mate Pat had been to odlabari all alone riding an intercity train which runs through the baikunthapur forest range and described me (with great deal of envy causing tone) the beauty of the journey...and it seemed to me like an adventure only shankar (of the fame of mountain of the moon) could achieve.

I was desparate.

I was eager and keen to show i am no kiddo.

I wanted to show the world that I too can take on those challenges.

Also the possible beauty of the road engrossed me...the simple train journey became like a hitch hiking adventure

and after much bickering
and a bit of water shedding
finally I got a nod from dad

Now when I look at it
After having traveled all the way to the other part of the world it looks kiddish to me. But then it was a small step which built up the hunger in me to look for the unknown. The journey wasn't a long one. It was only from Siliguri to farakka
where my uncle aunt and there two daughters stayed.

Dad was a railway service man. He got me a ticket in the second class sleeper on Kanchunjangha express. A train which will stop at farakka junction after 6 hours since the time it starts from NJP AKA New Jalpaiguri Station.

That day my dad didn’t take his cycle while going to the station which was his office too. He and I boarded a rickshaw from our home. I left home, my mom, didi and dadu back there standing at the doors. It was time to move on. It was time to face the world. As the rickshaw moved on along the roads of Siliguri I could still hear the chants of “Durga Durga” from my mom. I could see the pale face of my sister. And my dadu’s trembling hand giving ashirbad while I did a traditional pranam.

I was feeling weak. I was thinking of jumping from the rickshaw and running back to mom’s lap. The warmth of my dad beside me in the rickshaw reassured me. Dad was telling me how to face things. Those last minute suggestions you know. How never to talk to a stranger. How never to take anything from a stranger. And those instructions while were delivered to boost my morale were in a way denigrating it. But I didn’t chicken out. And How I thank god for giving me enough courage for not shitting in my pants while I alone in the platform waited for the train.

The train was late for 4 hours. I waited and waited. My dad came and went back to work. And all the time I was wishing dad should be there when the train comes. Or else this could be the last time I am seeing my dad.

It was supposed to happen at 12 O clock noon. It finally happened 4 pm. Dad was losing patience and asked me a few times to leave the plan and go home. I was determined to take it on. I was not a guy to chicken out. I had to prove to my own eyes to be a grown up.

When finally the train came, I boarded it, and watched back to my dad’s face. There was no worry. He was quite confident I would make it. He was worried alright for the time I would reach farakka, but then my uncle had given word that he would be there with his car at the station.

The train started. So did my loneliness. There were some people sitting along with me. A big fat marwari guy. Who could not frighten me much as I knew before he tries anything silly I could run away. There were a family with a small kid who was crying hard. I smiled at the kid, and told in my mind, “grow up kid, at least you are going with your mom!! Look at me…I am all alone in this world.”


Things got bad soon. We reached guisal. The famous train accident site! And the train stopped due to some signal failures. It was like amazing actually. A train a man made creation standing in a place from where, where ever you see you could only see miles and miles of paddy fields. I wanted to go down to look out and see the beauty. But parents’ words held me back.

I opened the window and felt the cool wind all over my body. It was giving me strength and suddenly I felt I have crossed 2 hours or 1/3rd of my journey already. Out of nowhere there were chai walas. I had a tea. And dozed off. Then when I woke up, the train had just started and it was 8pm in the night.

I wasn’t worried much. But I was thinking if my uncle could not manage to come at that late night what I would do. And thinking hard only did weaken my confidence. And slowly I left it at that.

It was growing darker. I never knew that even when it’s completely dark it still goes on to become even darker with time. It was something new I was learning with every moment and I was fascinated with life that was around me.


I opened my diary I had, and started scribbling something. This caused me to doze off very soon. I woke up with a shoulder jerk from someone!!

A stranger!!

A guy in mid forties with specs on, and looking like a TT was pushing me…

“Khoka, are you the son of Mr. PK Paul? The CRS of NJP?”

I was shell shocked…this guy knows it all!! Bloody hell what is he!!

Then I nodded and the guy was all smiles..”Don’t be afraid khoka…Your dad just wanted me to check out whether you are alright or not!”


I was thinking, “jeez dad!! You are embarrassing me in front of every one here!!”

And was reasonably annoyed at the same time I felt it funny too thinking about my dad pacing up and down from bedroom to drawing room in worry. And my mom sitting in a corner with an all gone face. And I knew how much they love me!

I reached farakka alright. At night 2 am. My uncle was there despite a storm warning. And in his 1972 premiere I reached his bungalow quite safely. Masi told mom had called at least 10 times by then. I called them up and with that my first journey to the wilderness was over…

It was not as much full of beauty, revelation, adventure as probably pat had faced or not 10% as romantic as Shankar in the mountain of moon, but that was a very original experience which I still cherish. Life was not going to be same again.

Monday, 18 February 2008

A Saturday worth Blogging!

A busy Saturday at last. Oh how much do I enjoy busy Saturdays. Lots of useless stuff to do. Lots of useless places to go. Lots of useless people around. And endless useless stuff to rant about.

How did I pass the day? A great movie! A great dinner! Some long forgotten faces! And a fight in the club.

Phewww… now that’s something isn’t it?

We friends went to a movie at Harrow. Which one did you ask? Well what else the (in)famous Jodhaa Aakbar. And I must say the movie isn’t even worth spending 3 and half hours in the hall. Well there were couple of typical gwarikar’s romantic moments which I liked. I liked Hrithik’s childishness in somescenes and some places his emperor like rage. His command on acting is increasing and that’s a healthy sign for Bollywood. But the movie shows how pathetically inexperienced Bollywood is in handling periodic dramas.

I wonder why Indian directors fail take a clue out of great Hollywood epics like Gladiator or Troy or Kingdom of Heaven. People in India who are eager to make a historical movie should take some training sessions from Ridley Scott or Peter Jackson or Wolfgang Peterson. I mean the war in this movie almost is from the age of Ramanand Saagar’s Mahabharat and nothing more than that. Although the movie improves in the later half where Sujamal is being chased by afghan archers on horse and being shot at the scene is taken excellently.

But overall the film made me feel sick. On one side there was this gibberish farsi urdu mix that was given to Hrithik as his dialogues on the other side really bad acting from Akbar’s mother, some of the extra actors. Then there is endless useless song sequences and a timeless movie Yuckkkkkkk

Whatever the rest of the day was good. Met some old time friends. Tom and Shelly who got married recently had come to Watford to catch up. So we had gone club hopping. Then there was a fight at the Columbia press. Bloody noses, torn shirts, yells of “Freeze! Or I will shoot you!”, Swearing, in the fucking mean time getting served drinks for free and a bloody hell broken loose! All at the same time.

Saturday, 12 January 2008

Movie Review: Halla Bol

Movie: Halla Bol
*ing: Ajay Devgan, Vidya Balan, Pankaj Kapur
Rating: ** 1/2

Review:

Well, I am no movie reviewer, so I will write only what I felt about this movie.

1. This movie had a strong ambition.
2. This movie had a good story.
3. This movie had a strong actor to support both the above.
4. This movie had a strong actress to support the all of the above.
5. Yet this movie fails to achieve any single impact in the audience’s mind.

You will wonder why! I did too, and this is what I found out the reasons to be:

1. The movie has poor dialogues.
2. The movie has very poor script. Which makes all the decisions taken in the movie to be hasty and illogical.
3. This movie like every other RajKumar Santoshi film suffers from melodrama.
4. This movie like every other Raj Kumar Santoshi film suffers from over simplification of things.

I won’t give more details here because I am bored of typing. But do go and watch this movie to get a feel of how a good storyline and a great idea can be wasted!

Halla bol !!