Those Days of Science College, Ballygunge- VII

NEVER MIND.

Like the river that maintained its course after carving its way through the land, the waters expect to move along the path, once treacherous, now watery. In that same way, the expectation from the group increased a lot. Slowly but steady, we startedto realize each other incomplete without the other. Be it any occasion, or tour, whenever everyone was available then only did the plan get executed, atleast we required a Quorum to execute our plan.

In this context, quite individualistic, I can cite one incident. It revolved over a personal matter but which turned upon Joydeep, Ariit and Budha. After a long drooled day, I wanted to each phuchka, a great Indian Fast Food delicacy! But no one was competent enough to get down to the ground floor. I supressed my wish, but little while later, all agreed to go down for smoke. That made me little tarn! After all, they could have done the same job a little ago, but opted not to! I hurried past them, showing an abominable attitude. Acrid in behavior, I made my way down to have the food. On challenging, they lost, but again as per the deal, didnt bring up a suitable act to keep the bet! That too tempered me!

Later on, as the "Group" catalysed a mood swing, traeting my anger and quenching the hatred with the bet...by keeping it! That was a really special moment, where, we all had some fun, pulling my legs!! Ironical! :-D
P.S: The Bet was on Dahi Phuchka!

Accomplice.

After the two week long turmoil, spinning yarn about the future of the Government at the Center, when the pilfering was at last over, the minor flaws as goose bumps shattered the nation. They were string events, battering the IT bastion of the nation, Bangalore followed by a chained tremor of explosions in another important center, Ahmedabad.

The tryst continued with bombs being "excavated" from Surat, scares in Chennai and then a tickling sms about a threat loom over Kolkata. From the proceedings many people are speculating that the terrorists gave become quite a neologists, making a new meaning of the word :BACK, which now abbreviates for:
Bangalore
Ahmedabad
Chennai
Kolkata.
well they forgot the minor S(for Surat) in the whole make over! ;)

What ever it may be, the cosseting is not strong as the citizens are succumbing to what they wanted: Fear, and why not! Everyone fears to die. Living away from the crowd, its never a tincture of the feeling and the trauma they are getting through... its just a wait...as to when will things quiten up or as it is said: " History Visits with the Ugly Past...", when no one can forget the Bombay 1993.

AAMIR: To Work for a Cause, of a Community.

"Kaun kehta hain ki apni kismat kudh likhna parta hain?" That is how the poster runs and the trailers got aired through out the nature. The film, as part of the debutant was really a bold step for a brilliant career. Realistic to the maximum, without the nick and nacks of romantic emotions, the film did portray the daily ambience of the third world country's mega city, in this case, Mumbai, the commerce capital of India. With the dark and the dingy alleys of Mumbai downtown, to the social practices of a lower middle class to poverty claden mumbaikar is well apprecaited within the limited means of two and a half hours time frame.

Returning to India, from a foreign engagement, the man finds himself in a precarious position where his was abducted from the airport by a terrorist organisation and was asked to execute certain tasks, which seemed quite with the tinge of the amazing race, following clies and going places. The only difference that lay was the task culminated to planting a bomb in a busy crossing of mumbai at the peak hour. The film possesed the punch is anxiety, cocktailed with the pinch of thriller, emotion with the need for survival and save one's own family to the essence of strength where confidence to even kiss the death for the betterment of a society. The bottomline which gets highlighted is the fact that with every deed, the need gets suppressed and the news gets tailored whereby the actual incidents gets masked, as over here, when the actor tried to save hundreds of lives and in the deal sacrifices himself for the community ( As a success to his name: AAMIR, which means to live for the community), but the media named him as a TERRORIST!

Elegantly acted out by Mr. Rajeev Khandelwal, the debutant made a huge impact for mega releases in the near future. Apart from the actor, the supporting actor was Mumbai DownTown, vividly scampered into the time frame of two and a half hours. A MUST SEE MOVIE.

In the end, the film's catcher was made most prominent, when the actor DID make his OWN DESTINY!!! Apna kismat khud banaya hain....

MY RATING: 9/10.

Idlelistic Thoughts.

The jargon of any proffession is always unique, sometimes too isolated to become cumberous. Just like a flatcar, the bogie gets displaced from one place to the other and the barge keeps on saileng aimlessly with the tugboat pulling it ahead without a reason, without a purpose. That is what life turns into when Idle Time drags you along the paths, never bright. The dimmer to the dimmest alleys seem all very soaked, humid and pungent with the worn out socks and the dead hopes. Suffocating, no doubt, but only to kill it is by bringing the essence of franticity within the morosed out look. Tough call, but will never go unheeded. The only thing that needs the things to get moving is the perseverance and labour! Determination to light up and vaporize the dullness is the moto, but can be achieved without doubt....

Lets see...when it will be achieved!

meaningless maths...

4+ 4- 89^3 =?????
Utility ZERO?
The OutPot= Not Worth Noticing!
The only thing that leaves worthily behind is the scratch that seems to be a temporary indentation, but shall prove its mettle and be recognized as The Permanent Mark, till the last breath. And the Relations gets its share of luck and Lath (Hindi: Kicking off)
It the former is smiling, the Later fears the affector! If the former leaves the later, then no matter how you think, end is meaningless craps as well as meaningless time spent without the fruit!
Keeping it that way makes a person vulnerable to the fact of lethargu and No apt action.
Whatever it may be, thought of writting in some craps, so have made it a point! Take care!

Stony Brook.

The water flows past, with the under breath murmur. Its a beautiful summer evening. Clad by the shade of the outgrowths near the brook banks, the sole come to rest, making the ambiance peaceful for another synonym, the Soul within, which too has gone through the years of wear and tear. The bicycle rings, and from the corners of the ragged old mossed out branch did the fruits of yesteryears hang. The sound made those dehydrated memories come to life, with the white strands on the temple regaining the colour of youth after being soaked in the vessel of good times.
Bringing up myself was never a problem and with the immense boosters from both my parents and always to mention my granny, it was a good smooth journey with really rough patches. Back then, working for friends, with friends, making them laugh even on the slightest gag was always a part and parcel of my life.
Kicking the Coke can swinging with the We Will Rock your or shouting the heads haywire with the rythms of Divinity, it was never a problem to social up. There was always something to do, some one to find and chat. but with the life at its bumble middle ages, the bubble seems to widen up with loneliness everywhere. they might intersect, but are not integrated! Clouded yet not raining. The most suffocating feeling of all!!
Dubbed! Doomed! Bamboozled! No Clue.....

Its a Country Song...

Starting from the brisk rumbling of the dry palm leaves to the tappering of the first drops of rain for the season, the harmony crept along to sooth the battered soul. Recent researches have proved that rain and clouds glooms the mind and makes a person depressed, quite antonymous for my mood swings. Catering to the needs, the rain drops paint the colour uniformly through out the soul, drenching the long awaited thirst to satisfaction. Its another season of loneliness. Its another season of being all alone, walking in the the thunder, just to compare how heavy they can be over my empty world? The answer keeps streaming down the temporary stream that makes way from the cracked fence of the desolate house: that's me.

The answer keeps me guessing for nothing, beacuse at the end of the season it will be again a ray of fruitless hope. The journey is uphill, never ending. The rain shall come again after an annual cycle. Who knows whether this house can meet up the challenge to wait... or stop in between into the dead cold....