More than a month since my last post.. my blog fully constructed but not much in use.. not many thoughts running through my mind (thanks to the many exams and also the many projects being hurled at us one after the other, not to mention the disturbing presentations following each submission of project) ... and to add to all the misery, I am terribly, terribly broke, and I have also recently lost a badminton match against a weaker opponent (courtesy: Invicta 2010, NUJS Sports Fest). And that is perhaps my biggest regret so far this year. Even more so than not having studied for my end sem exams and failing in two subjects thus. All in all, this is just a forced post where I just felt like writing though I haven't really much to write. Therefore I am going to take this opportunity to mention all the important people in my life. Since my very childhood I have had the ability (I call it so, since I find it very rare among my friends from contemporary times) to make friends with whoever I meet and retain the acquaintanceship for an appreciable time. As a result, there have been many people in my life. As is the case with anybody, most people only graze past our minds, barely touching our hearts, superficial bonding; but only a few really make it to the core, make a huge impact and are of great significance to us in more ways than one... in ways they themselves are unaware of... or if it's possible, in ways even we ourselves know not...
With this I would like to make a very honest mention of all those people who have ever meant so much to me, even if for a second, that I thought it worthy enough to make a public proclaimation of it. I have been hurt and betrayed many times, that too by the closest and most unexpected of people. Still the feeling of love and belonging never left. However we maybe today, whoever we maybe today, in some way or the other, we are responsible for each other. This list follows no order but the manner in which I found them, perhaps a little later, but found nevertheless. The purpose of this list is not to send a message to anybody, or to win back affections. It is a reflection of the pages of my life, perhaps chapters, significant chapters, which I intend to look back upon whenever I feel lonely, with the hope that it will return the smile to my lips reminding me of the many memories attached with every single person mentioned here...
Sukanya Dhar
Kaushiki Datta
Rinisha Dutt
Taniya Bhardwaj
Arpita Chatterjee
Soumi De
Shahana Yasmin
Sayantika Ghosh
Sayoni Ghosh
Sanchari Pal
Rini Mukherjee
Oindrilla Basu
Mrinalini Mazumdar
Chandreyee Saha Roy
Afreen Alam
Swati Gupta
Anwesha Roy
Krittika De
Mohor Mukherjee
Ranjini (Tori) Bhattacharya
Twisha Saha
Mukulika (Moon)
Bornali di
Mampia di
Mohini Basu
Aparna Chaudhari
Piu Ghosh
Aankita Mukherjee
Pooja Saha
Swagata Ganguly
Puja Maity
Sukanya Basak
Rajiv Sarkar
Natansh Chhabra
Moharmala Mukherjee
Rajorshi (Gorky) Bose
Pubali Chakraborty
Anisha Ghosh
Dibyajyoti Sinha
Richa Gupta
Unknown guy in the bus (from Dumdum/Kajipara to Ultadanga)
Karishma Sharma
Camelia Bagh
Vaidehi Shaw
Sambit Datta Chaudhuri
Samhita Bannerjee
Arghya Brata Mandal
Rohan Kothari
Ahona Sen
Anirvan Sengupta
Sarita Rout
Priyanka Mukherjee
Abhishek Mour
Jubin Prasad Thomas
Tanya Tiwari
Bhumika Mallick
Tarun Misra
Tanuj Gautam (R.I.P)
Varun Mohan
Anish Jaipuriar
Srisatya Mohanty
Ritabrata Dobe
Ritwik Goswami
Aditya Sengupta
Siddharth Mohanty
Sudeshna Panigrahi
Mayank Sapra
Santwana Dwivedi
Akshath Goyal....
Phew! Now that was ONE list! It turned out to be longer than I thought.. good in a way.. makes me feel less lonely somehow in times like this... Coming to think of it, most of these people are probably unaware of their significance in my life. A couple of them don't even know my name, or that I even exist!
Strange world.. Stranger relations.. Even stranger ways of The One who decides all this...
My rant blog.
I like ranting.
Noone's listening anyway.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Sunday, February 7, 2010
A Trip To Remember...
It has been exactly two weeks since my trip to Konark and Puri, yet the beauty of the journey (and the ultimate destination, Puri) keeps making me go back to the many pictures clicked and relive the memories afresh. And since my blog will mostly be about my life and how things have turnedout for me, I've decided to upload some of the pics as a remembrance of my first ever trip to Puri and Konark. I would not do justice to them if I don't. So here follows some of the best pics taken that day.. 24.01.10.



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Friday, January 29, 2010
Bonolata Sen
Arguably the most read, recited and discussed poem of Bengali literature, 'Bonolata Sen' written by Jibanananda Das in 1933 remains one of my most favorite poems of all times. The poet's imaginary lover, Bonolata Sen, embodies a mystical aura of femininity and womanly warmth. With a feel of travelling through time immemorial, and across thousands of miles, and with the pitch darkness of the night as its backdrop, the poem has a soothing allure, and attracts me to it like a bee towards a flower. The poem has all the elements of every dreamer's fantasies, and like the greedy bee inevitably drawn towards the flower, I keep coming back to the poem, reading the lines time and again, regardless of the hundreds of times I have already been through them..
Hajar bochhor dhore ami poth hathitechhi prithibir pothe
Singhal somudro theke aro dur ondhokaare Maloy sagore
Onek ghurechhi ami. Bimbisar-Ashoker dhushor jogote
Shekhane chhilam ami. Aaro dur ondhokar bidorbho nogore
Aami klanto praan ek, chaaridike jiboner shomudro shofen,
Aamare du-dondo shanti diyechhilo Natorer Bonolata Sen.
Chool tar kobekar ondhokaar bidishaar nisha,
Mukh tar srabostir karukaarjo. Otidur shomidrer 'por
Haal bhange je naabik hariyechhe disha,
Shobuj ghaasher desh jokhon she chokhhe dekhe Daruchinir dweeper bhitor
Temoni dekhechhi taare ondhokaare.
Bolechhe she, "eto din kothaye chhilen?"
Paakhir neerer moto chokh tule Natorer Bonolata Sen.
Shomosto diner sheshe shishirer shobder moton
Shondhya aashe. Daanar roudrer gondho muchhe fele cheel.
Prithibir shob rong muchhe gele paandulipi kore aayojon,
Tokhon golper tore jonakir ronge jhilmil.
Shob paakhi ghore aashe - shob nodi. Furaye e' jiboner shob len-den.
Thake shudhu ondhokaar, mukhomukhi boshibar Bonolata Sen...
For thousands of years I roamed the paths of this earth,
From waters around Ceylon in dead of night to Malayan seas.
Much have I wandered. I was there in the gray world of Asoka
And Bimbisara, pressed on through darkness to the city of Vidarbha.
I am a weary heart surrounded by life's frothy ocean.
To me she gave a moment's peace - Banalata Sen from Natore.
Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa
Her face, the craftsmanship of Sravasti. As the helmsman,
His rudder broken, far out upon the sea-adrift,
Sees the grass-green land of a cinnamon isle, just so
Through darkness I saw her. Said she, "Where have you been so long?"
And raised her bird's-nest-like eyes - Banalata Sen from Natore.
At days end, like hush of dew
Comes evening. A hawk wipes the scent of sunlight from its wings,
When earth's colors fade and some pale design is sketched,
Then glimmering fireflies paint in the story.
All birds come home, all rivers, all of this life's tasks finished.
Only darkness remains, as I sit there face to face with Banalata Sen...
From waters around Ceylon in dead of night to Malayan seas.
Much have I wandered. I was there in the gray world of Asoka
And Bimbisara, pressed on through darkness to the city of Vidarbha.
I am a weary heart surrounded by life's frothy ocean.
To me she gave a moment's peace - Banalata Sen from Natore.
Her hair was like an ancient darkling night in Vidisa
Her face, the craftsmanship of Sravasti. As the helmsman,
His rudder broken, far out upon the sea-adrift,
Sees the grass-green land of a cinnamon isle, just so
Through darkness I saw her. Said she, "Where have you been so long?"
And raised her bird's-nest-like eyes - Banalata Sen from Natore.
At days end, like hush of dew
Comes evening. A hawk wipes the scent of sunlight from its wings,
When earth's colors fade and some pale design is sketched,
Then glimmering fireflies paint in the story.
All birds come home, all rivers, all of this life's tasks finished.
Only darkness remains, as I sit there face to face with Banalata Sen...

Life Moves On...
Ross, Rachel, Joey and Phoebe stare at them in utter disbelief that they could even imagine leaving the apartment so beloved to them, the place where they have lived and hung out for more than a decade. And as they all look back at all those precious memories attached to the place, I get transported back to the day I got to know I would be leaving my home, my beloved city, to come and live in a completely alien city with a bunch of completely alien people.I have spent the entirety of my childhood in Kolkata; born and brought up. My entire schooling from just the one school, though I do have a multiple school history, each lasting for only a month or two (thanks to my parents' constant switching of residential preference) before I finally settled for Calcutta Girls' High School (which, surprisingly, is nowhere close to my current residence in Kolkata). My entire life revolved around this city, the city I had known for 18 whole years, every nook and corner, the city I had grown up to call Home.. And yet, I would be leaving it. And now that I come to think of it, for God knows how many years..
From the very moment I had laid my eyes on my NLUO results on 07.07.09, I knew I would be leaving my city for a small town like Cuttack ('Kotok', as my friends used to joke, and still do), 'cause I was not worthy enough to be in NUJS,WB, and I was too selfish to let go of something I wanted to do from a very long time, and that too from a national level university. Getting through NLUO was perhaps the biggest miracle of 2009 (especially following my disastrous result in CLAT, and the fact that NLUO's was the hardest question paper I had ever come across), beating even my qualifying the WBJEE and AIEEE (with not so much of an enviable rank, maybe, but not quite so disgracing either). D-day being 16.07.09, I made up my mind to spend my remaining few days in Kolkata roaming the city like never before, with my friends and family. Thus from Dumdum-Nagerbajar in the north, to Park Street-Victoria-Howrah in central, to Ballygunj-Gariahat-Tollygunj-Behala in the south; not a corner did I leave untouched. And sooner than even a house of cards could come down, my final week in Kolkata came to a close.
Packing had not taken much time, 'cuz I didn't really have much decision to make, what to take and what not to etc. I was literally moving out of my house to live elsewhere, which meant I practically had to take along with me everything material that my world comprised of. I wished I could take my entire house along with me, including my parents, from whom I would be living away for the first time in my life (I had never even been to a sleep-over or an overnight camp!). I also wished I could take all my wonderful friends along with me, who meant much more than my world itself. It would be unenduringly difficult living without them, especially in an unknown town with unknown people all around me. Who knew if I would ever fit in? Maybe I would be an outcaste in college. I shuddered at the thought of it. I had always got so much attention in school, I couldn't bear the thought of being ignored or looked down upon in a higher institute. However, the building lump in my throat outgrew the feeling of anticipated apprehension of living in an alien environment. I took a last look at everything around me, including petty things like the almirah in the bedroom, or the heap of newspapers long forgotten at the corner of the room adjoining our second floor balcony, things I had never bothered to look twice at, or even once for that matter, the weird feeling of void within me still growing. One last look at the seemingly teenage street pup I had seen growing up before my very eyes ever since it was born, the lone survivor of a litter of ten. As I fed him a biscuit and patted him, he seemed to understand I was telling him goodbye. He bowed down a little first, then sat down near my right foot, his little body against it, not letting me move. Even the lane by my house seemed different that day, like some kind of a strong magnet within it wouldn't let me budge..
Before long, I was already on my way to the station, and perhaps for the first time ever, I realised how beautiful my city was.. the 'City of Joy' indeed! My heart ached, but I had to control my emotions. I guess there's a time in everybody's life when you leave your past, and go over to a totally different new world. Sometimes, you just have to move on. And this was my call. No point looking back anymore. Move on.
"Going through the motions Can't turn back time
I've lost all devotion
I've had inside
Like anyone I've learned to play like I'm blind
I've had inside
Like anyone I've learned to play like I'm blind
I've learned to believe I'll always get by
So many times I've wished my emotions would just give in
So I could be anything
Anything but human
Like anyone I've learned to play like I'm blind
I've learned to believe I'll always get by
Life moves on or so I'm told
Life moves on..."
So many times I've wished my emotions would just give in
So I could be anything
Anything but human
Like anyone I've learned to play like I'm blind
I've learned to believe I'll always get by
Life moves on or so I'm told
Life moves on..."

Friday, January 22, 2010
English Translation of the song "Ibn-E-Batuta"
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta ta ..
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta, in the armpit shoe hah, hah, hah
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta, in the armpit shoe hah, hah, hah
When u wear it, it goes churrrrr!!!
Flying flying it comes, nibbling at the grains,
Flying flying it comes, nibbling at the grains,
Fly away you bird, phurrrrr!!!
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta, in the armpit shoe hah, hah, hah
When u wear it, it goes churrrrr!!!
Flying flying it comes, nibbling at the grains,
Fly away you bird, phurrrrr!!!
Ibn-e-batuta, Ibn-e-batuta
In the next turn, Death is standing
Arrey even for dying, what's the hurry?
In the next turn, Death is standing
Arrey even for dying, what's the hurry?
Blowing horn, comes in public
Hooo than accident, it is much better
Go fly away fly away phurrrr phurrr phurrr!!!!
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta, in the armpit shoe hah, hah, hah
When u wear it, it goes churrrrr!!!
Flying flying it comes, nibbling at the grains,
Fly away you bird, phurrrrr!!!
(Ibn-eeeeee ... batoootaaa, Ibn-eeeeeee ... batootaaa...)
From both sides, rings this
Has come Life, is this a drum? (???)
From both sides, rings this
Has come Life, is this a drum?
Ringing horn, come to garden
Arrey little u have come, it is ghajro datt (Nowhere could I find what that meant!!!)
Arrey go go go fly away fly away
Phurrr phurrr phurrr!!!!
Ibn-e-batuta ta ta, in the armpit shoe hah, hah, hah
When u wear it, it goes churrrrr!!!
Flying flying it comes, nibbling at the grains,
Fly away you bird, phurrrrr!!!!!!

Disclaimer: The above thing, whatever you may call it, is purely the creation of an idle and stupid mind. Resemblance with any person or animal, dead or living, is purely coincidental.
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