Love you: For your brutality!

So let's face it. There is no reason why I should love you, but yet I do. I know its clichéd, but do I love you for a reason, and the reason is love? Actually not, I love you for reasons, damn good reason, and guess what, the reasons are aplenty. Let me think of some of them then.

I love you because you are the most beautiful thing on earth (Am I treating women as a commodity? :P). Its strange you know, particularly in the world of Priyanka Chopras and oh yes, the Padukones. I often ponder about it, when I can not think of anyone who is even remotely close to being as beautiful as you are. Well, love truly is strange :)

I also love you for being you. I love you when you are brutally honest. I love it when you tell me how exactly you feel about things (I do argue, very often at that; but come on, its my nature. The Argumentative Indian, rings a bell?). And even when I genuinely disagree with you, I still respect your thoughts. I come across as arrogant, but let me assure you, I just want to express my viewpoint. Some psychologists will present my case as having the worst communication problem, I know :D

I love you because you made me famous. People know me because you have been there, because people appreciate my love for you. Palash Sen :"Mashhoor hoon mein....wajeh tu hain unhe maloom nahin." I owe you a big big thank you for that. And hey, that does make me accountable to you. I am indeed.

I love you because when I look at old pictures, my day is made. When the first display of public affection is still alive in stills, I love it. When I remember the way you blushed, I love it. When I revisit the thrill I had, I love you even more. Does that remind you of a train journey? I hope you remember :)

I love you because you know me. You, for some inexplicable reason, know it when I lie, when I am sad, and even when I hide stuff from you. How do you do it? Is that because you know the theory of keeping secrets, and being selective to the core? I love that. It proves you know me, like no one else, you do.

I love you when I remember that rainy evening, and that awesome walk. The single umbrella, the smile you had, and the candid admission of heavenly pleasure. Is there a better moment in my life? I seriously doubt.

I love you because you helped me see the world. You helped me know that there is a world beyond you. You made me experiment with the world. You helped me with your absence, you gave me a chance to miss you, like hell. And you helped me realize how desperately I want you, forever.

I love you because I can list thousands of other reasons why I love you. And I have the luxury of saving most of them for the next post. Trust me, not many people have that luxury.

But yes, I should say something you will love to end tonight. I love you because you have made it very clear that you are beyond my reach. You made me realize I made mistakes, terrible (fatal?) ones at that. I love you because you have made it brutally clear that I can dream, and dreams do not always come true. Neither do plans :)

In search of the truth - Me and my poet

My favorite poet has been murdered

He wanted to say

The newest things

He wanted to talk about

Soil and water

Fire

Wind

Vacuum

About mysteries

My favorite poet has been murdered,

because

He did not smile

He said all smiles are fake

He said the flowers in the garden, the tress in the front-yard

Want to go to the forest

He understood the pain of the flowers, of the trees

Of men

He said

No one wants light

No one wants the dark

Men are searching for men in the darkness of light

He spoke the unseen truth

That is why

My favorite poet has been murdered

His face has been butchered

His hands have been broken

His chest has been hit too heard to revive life

My favorite poet has been made to slept forever

Till now

He did not sleep

Did any one know

My favorite poet has been murdered

My favorite poet has been brutally murdered

And perhaps even I will be murdered some day

In such a Monday

Somewhere near the palace, before

The sun rises, because

Now everyone's aware

I too want to say new things

Day after day, night after night

Even I haven't slept

Have been searching through the dark and light, wanting to talk about

Soil

Water

Fire

Wind

Vacuum

and about mysteries

(Translated from Assamese poem "Xotyor anwexonot mur kobi aru moi," by Nileem Kumar)

THE ‘OPEN’ DEBATE ON MEDIA ETHICS

A recent controversy surrounding two renowned Indian journalists has brought the question of media ethics to the forefront again.

Openthemagazine.com, a website for the weekly current affairs and features magazine Open, has published a transcript of a telephone conversation between NDTV news channel’s famous editor and presenter Barkha Dutt and controversial lobbyist Nira Radia.

A transcript between Hindustan Times Advisory editorial director Vir Sanghvi and Radia is also published.

The transcript shows Dutt making statements on many political events, which were apparently classified information and had the potential of influencing the political landscape in the nation.

While most of Indian media decided to stay silent on the issue, NDTV has vigorously defended Dutt, claiming that the remarks were “defamatory”, but never denying that it was indeed Dutt’s voice.

Popular sentiment is against Indian media on this, as newspapers and TV channels – generally very aggressive in covering controversies – skipped the event that involved one of their own journalists.

These sentiments forced Mint, a business daily in collaboration with the Wall Street Journal, to issue a statement on why it chose not to cover the issue.

However, readers are not convinced, and most have called the clarification “lame.”

“When 2 of your own people get caught, the entire media has decided to remain silent. The same people who would otherwise jump the gun and run full day breaking news about the silliest of issues,” writes a reader on the Mint website.

Meanwhile, Dutt clarified her stand on her Twitter page.

“Gathering information against the backdrop of a political story is not unethical. Nor is using that information to get more information,” she wrote.

The question is whether a reporter has the liberty to share privileged information on controversial topics with sources to gather further information, and whether a casual, everyday conversation has been blown out of proportion in some sections.

Shahrukh, Dogs and some thoughts!!

When I was in school, I used to hate Shahrukh Khan, maybe because the girls loved him, or maybe because I wanted to prove myself different. However, with time, the perception has changed. i still don't say Shahrukh is a great actor or a great human being. but I simply have come to love his way of portraying a non-existent personal life as if it were real.

For those who haven't yet seen the documentaries The Inner World of Shahrukh khan and The Outer World of Shahrukh Khan, I strongly recommend them as a must-see. London-based Indian writer and film maker Nasreen Munni kabir made those back in 2005. They revolve around two small stages of his life-one during the shooting of Main Hoon Na (that becomes the inner world) and one during his famous US-Canada tour (the outer world)..


While the Inner World focuses on the actor's personal life-his wife, his kids, the unmarried elder sister; the outer world shows the love he gets from all over the world- the image that he projects to the world.

Now why would it be interesting? Isn't it an old-fashion to romanticize celebrity life and make them look like God? Well there lies the difference- both the films intelligently tries a different approach- a Shahrukh khan who's no idol, who's not perfect-but immensely successful- a story of You and me- a story of dreams!

Now this sounds like romanticism again- yes, it is romanticism-but what makes it different is the way it is articulated. You can't say who deserves the maximum credit-the director or the actor, but they both sure deserve accolades. e.g- if we see a teary eyed Shahrukh in his school church, we don't believe it to be real..We know he is an actor-but when Shahrukh keeps on smoking Classics incessantly and getting massages from his doctor for his troubling back; that clubbed together with his teary eyes gives an impression that everything is real...we think this Shahrukh is real,one who smokes, suffers, hits clubs, has a family and also gets emotional in his school churce-he suddenly becomes you and me- a human being..And we start taking everything seriously-as if we are watching a common man's life unfolding...kudos to the makers.


Now moving to a different perspective- the man is an entertainer. Yes his jokes are idiotic and stupid at times (read the towel act at filmfare), but he entertains nevertheless. He does not goes around taking up social issues he does not understand (pun definitely intended), he does not let his dark side come into focus. when he attended a birthday party of a co-star's girlfriend and blabbered some insult on the host, the media did take it up-but just for a day, he restrained from commenting-such a clever thing to do to avoid controversies. This is not to say he is perfect ..He is surely not. he's not a great actor either- i would rate Paresh Rawal and Ranvir Shorey ahead of him any day (Or even Akshay Kumar for that matter), but what i am trying to say is that he has shown how to handle stardom. He has taken it in sporting spirit when someone compared him to a dog licking his feet. Or even when he is compared with the Big B. Actors are professionals, they should know how to handle the profession. And that dignity is a virtue. Shahrukh has that. And that's precisely why he has been "the man to go to" in Bollywood for such a long time. I admire the man for that!!

THE AURA OF CRICKET..

Some ten years ago, there used to be a popular Close-up ad, where Ajay Jadeja, the most popular cricketer of his time, tried to get close to a gal, and finally was able to get close to her with his 'close-up confidence'. I still remember the conversation in that ad-
Ajay-Hi, I am Ajay
Gal-Cricket fan toh nahin?
A-Nah. Cricket?? Silly game. Ek choti sa game aur uske peeche bais deewane
G-Aur uske peeche?
A-Baais laakh expert!!!!

Now, here Ajay clearly mis-stated the figure. It has to be in Crores..Cricket Expert is the most available specis in India, back then and even now. And the question is how come the number of cricket lovers (read experts) is not going down?? Are the new innovations the tool to keep the business of cricket ticking?? Is it an effect of Twenty-20?? Or simply the passion associated with the very name of the game-the gentlemen's game-Cricket??
When we talk about cricket from the perspective of a viewer, we have to keep in mind that no one watches anything for nothing. We watch a movie for enjoyment (no doubts here, even if you say you watched Legend of Bhagat Singh because you are a patriot, and Elizabeth because you love history!), news for selfish resons of expanding our knowledge base, and WWE to satify our Mr. Hydes. But cricket? A game that can run up to five days and still produce no results? Or finish in just over an hour with a slice of luck turning the match in someone's favour?? A game, to watch which we spend 400 bucks a month on our Tata Sky or Dish TV?? A game the micro-mini format of which costs us a 1000 bucks for a single ticket (the price of 5 movies, three whiskey bottles or a visit to your nearest amusement park; whatever you like)?? Then why would anyone watch cricket leaving aside all his alternative choices of entertainment???

The answer is ' I don't know'. I really don't know. As you can see, I myself know I have so many alternate options of entertainment, but I cant skip a cricket match. Not even when India plays Hong-Kong in some stupidly organised tournament. This is something I call the aura of Cricket. It is, alongwith Bollywood, the greatest leveller India has ever seen. I took extra care not to say Sports here, as at this point of time, cricket is the only game where India produces world class (however small a world it might be) players, and no other sport can take away its credit. Cricket is the only game which is accepted with equal ease and affection on all its formats, it is only sport that produces a man who earns more than a Bollywood star. The aura of cricket is so mindblowing that when we think about Indo-Pak cricket, we remeber a certain Kanitkar who hit a boundary of the second last ball to give us an emphatic win. We remeber a Prasad blowing up the defences of a certain Sohail. We celebrate the only world cup victory even after 25 years, with a week-long schedule.
This is awesome! This is incredible. This is extraordinary. This is Cricket!

Hail Cricket!!!

Nilim Kumar (Here's the favourite!!)

When and How he came to me I don't know
His name is Nilim Kumar
So desperately he asked me
For my hands
For my lips
That


I gave him my hands
And my lips


He writes verses, he embraces fire
With those hands
He kisses and whispers melodies
With those lips


He stares at people
He wants to hug them, he wants to kiss them
He is human
He practices all the good and bad habits of mankind
He practices all the lights and darks of human


He looks for a man in a man
A woman in a woman
He looks for the natural color of the world


He is stubborn, proud
Angry,doesn't follow the rules
Extremely sensitive
In love with torments
He leads an obnoxious life
His heart is Badly bruised
Outcome of the love he carries


He often leaves me alone
To the houses, the yards of people
The shops the markets
The villages the towns he roams around
As if he is an exiled burnt out soul


He comes to me when he is hungry
He comes to me when he is thirsty
Unable to bear the pain of that wound is his bosom
He comes to me
I have to feed him
I have to make him drink
I make him dress and
I sooth him to sleep in he bed of my heart


In return of that
He pens down verses of my life


Rather he writes about his life itself
But whatever he writes about are stories of my life



When and how he came to me I have no clue
He has now come to you
He wants to hold your hands
Along with his own
To make his lips touch yours
Look how desperately stands in front of you
He is Nilim Kumar





(Translated from an Assamese poem of the same name by Nilim Kumar)

Her heart

I carry her heart around
She goes away leaving behind
Her heart in my bosom

Since she doesn't carry her heart
She can laugh, she can sing
she can dance,she can play

No heart, no pain

And as I carry her heart
Carefully I roam
Carefully i sit
Carefully I eat
Carefully I speak

Sometimes, she peeps in
To see
If I still carry her heart


She can play all the games
All the games
She doesn't have a heart


(translated from Tair Hriday, Nilim kumar)

Accident

Everything has gone wayward


The heart has slipped to the belly from my bosom
A leg has got shorter
Some fingers have pinned down the back
And one hand is now in my chest

The eyes, ears, the tongue and the teeth are very much unaffected yet

Same is the love
In my heart

But the mind is not stable

The accident happened
In the bridge of love




(Translated from Durghatana, Nilim kumar)

Courtroom

She has filed a case
Wants to leave me

Even I am doing the same
Filing cases
Against her

We meet in the courtroom corridors
Often now

We never confronted inside the room

The dates has been postponed
Again and again

One day
When we entered the courtroom
We saw
Pain is the Judge

And so strange
We both have the same lawyer
Love



(Translated from AADaalat, Nilim Kumar)

The Customer

I have thirty paise in my wallet
The price of a cigarette

If I had a rupee
Could have bought a peg

Too broke to be drunk
Such poverty

I just have the heart
Can I buy with it
Love
To get high?

(Translated from Assamese, original 'Grahak' by Nilim Kumar)

If I Question You.....

If the tunes come to an end in the midday of creation,
Oh rhythmist how will you arrnge
The fair of tunes, here on earth?
If I question you....


If lanuguages end the moment you set out your boat in the sea of thoughts,
Oh poet how will you worship the queen of poetry, the Autumn?
If I question you....


And if you find out that colurs are also gone halfway through your painting,
Oh artist how will you complete the unfinished portrait?
If I question you....


If hopes end at disappointment in the daybreak of life
And storms and rains destroy the half blooming flower,
of friend can you stop the destroyer of creation?
If I question you....





(Literal translation of an Assamese song 'Jadi Moi Prashna Karu' , Sung by late Jayanta Hazarika)

A STORY

(All the characters are imaginary, just influenecd by real life. Any resemblance is purely co incidental, just like Jane Eyre)









CHAPTER ONE



It happened that day.

It was the 21st of September, 2004.

It was the day when the Sun rose from the West!!

It was the day when the most impossible happened.

For the optimists like Amlan, it was the day when the possible crossed the boundaries of improbables.

It was the day when Amlan felt what is called boundless joy, a sense of fulfillment, a sense of being complete. So immature was he!

For starters, it was the day when Hiya declared her love for him, at last.







CHAPTER TWO



Memories are dangerous. Amlan read the Mahabharata in childhood. He knows how Yudhisthira saved the lives of his brothers by answering correctly to the most intriguing of questions. He knows that the thing that travels the fastest is the human mind. The mind and memory! When both of them join up and decide to go for a little tour down the line, you never know what they will bring up-joys, sorrows or nothing-sifar. How Amlan wished he never has these memory trips. Now that it already initiated, he decided to not to be choosy. Although he knew it will be tough and will have to go through heavy roller coaster rides, he, in a hidden part of his mind, really wanted to revisit all those days- His journey through the times, his journey to the complexities or artificiality.






CHAPTER THREE

“Did you really say that Amlan?”

Amlan stares blankly at the Principal. He can sense the smiles running through all around him-the teachers are smiling at him.

“I repeat, did you really say so?”

Still no answer. He does not know what to say, how to response in this most awkward of situations. Can he openly say that he said he really wants to marry this girl? Loving someone is a crime? It may not be. But he knows, he has said it too early.

“You will definitely marry her Amlan.”-The Principal says.

Amlan can not believe his own ears. Has he heard clearly?

“You will definitely marry her Amlan,” the Principal continues, “once you grow up. Its very good you have chosen her. But you can’t marry her right now. Don’t you think you are too small for that? You have just entered school. You are in the first standard. Once you grow up to be a successful man, you can marry whoever you want to. Your dad himself will welcome any decision with both hands. Just concentrate on studies and be successful. Now you may leave.”

Amlan is shocked. He came here prepared for a harsh punishment, to stand outside the classroom the whole day. But what he got is encouragement-unbelievable, incredible. His motive of life is clear now – to be successful and to marry her as soon as possible. He will do anything to be successful in his life –he takes the first resolution of his life.

As it turned out, like all the resolutions he took the rest of his life, the first resolution lasted exactly three days. And the girl was not Hiya!





..........................................................................................................................................................................



(To be continued)

What am I writing!!!!!!!

Its 3-30 in the morning. And I am logged into blogger! The reasons are two- firstly I cannot study and I can think of nothing better to utilise my sleepless night....and secondly its sheer waste of web-space if you create a blog and donot write anything in it. Hence-another attempt.

Now, what can I talk about? College, which has recently been over? Exams, coming in twenty days? Cricket, India out in the first stage of worls cup? Or the parties, which have ironically become an integral part in preparing for the exams? Now while I type these words in, the conflict in my mind becomes more evident. I dont know what should get priority in my life. Merely changing the profile name to priority doesnot make me an expert in priority.Its a way of consoling myself. Nothing else. My father has always told me, " Do everything in life, but always keep in mind what your priority is." Alas! I still cannot make out what that intended to mean.

There was a time-in school...I was in the 9th standard I guess..I thought the ultimate priority in life should be love. Not only Romance, but to love and to be loved by everyone. Now I know its not practical. Atleast not for someone like me. I have my own style which doesnot suit everyone. So its natural for many people to hate me, as I hate many. So the priority in life cannot be love. It got to be something else. What?

A good academic record, a good salary, a ' safe' job and a life with a beautiful wife- is it the goal of life? If so, then the road to that life is undoubtably studies. Then, the basic priority of me, a student's life should necessarliy be studies. Fair enough. But somehow I get the feeling that my life is not meant for that. Then for what? The latenights and the wild parties that I have had enough of? Or mere satisfaction of somewhat living upto the childhood fantasies? But I know this is not the answer. I dont know the answer, but what I know is that this is not the answer.

I know what I want to achieve and somewhat know the path to glory too. I just cannot go on. I know I have to do this and that, but always unable to do that. I know my life is all messed up and I should re-arrange everything, but the fear of recognising a darker side stoppes me. And this is the tragedy!

Can life get more difficult than this? Maybe yes. Maybe no.I dont know.

Good Site on Walcott

BookRags: A Far Cry from Africa Summary

'RIVALS'

(Originally in Assamese by Nilim Kumar,titled 'Pratidwandi',Published by 'Seuji Seuji' ,Nilim Kumaror Kabita Samagra ak,2003,Translated by Anurag Kotoky)

You asked

Remove your shirt

I showed

Twenty four ribs

Didnot match yours

You asked

Raise your hands

Raised my hands

And touched the sky

Didnot resemble yours

You asked

Open your mouth

I opened

The roaring conch-shell

Unlike yours

Everything would have matched

Had I been,like you

Stout

Humpbacked

Dumb