Baseless Platform.

When the roads up ahead asks for a face lift, with all the smudged zebra crossings and the signals on their way of worked out exit, the bull dozer makes the work hard to comprehend. Where is it all coming from? And what is the basic use of creating a fuss, which brings less harmony to a presently harmonious mind?
Nothing is the call.
Nothing is the bottom line.
Yet there is a fence of non violence, a complete faith, understanding and belief in the other. These walls are always too strong for anything to come across and hard enough to resist all kinds of over running elements. Its a matter of time to see it over, for the Great Wall magnets from the moon, even after over 3000 years, why not this wall of belief. Of course it will... It has to... We can opver come with this weapon, as pure as white, flawless, un mitigatable... just the strength is required to pass through this baseless platform, and win the trophy of happiness, ever after!!! Always....

25th Day of October, 2008.

Another day is on the cards. Two days hence will be one of the most lighted festivals, Diwali, be celebrated through out India. But life starts from where it has ended for me, from yesterday. The feeling is far from being satisfied and perplexion rules the day. I feel lethargic. Out of focus, as what to do and what not to. Seem quite anachronistic in my existence. Should have been in the times when there still were the feudal lords, and I would be the heir of a huge village and acres and acres of land.

With the weather all turned cold, with the occassional gusts blowing across the streets, with mumbling swirls of the fallen, yet partially soaked leaves sounds quite loud in the desolate "cold" streets of Calcutta @ 2:43AM.

The trucks hustles across the speed brakers. Something really bad is looming around.... but what is it? I dont know. Atleast this proves that I am not God, atleast to those people who are interested to know the answer of that stupid question: "Who are You?" The random titles tags thy mind, as I fight against the incumbency... to tackle the financial downfall...

Hard... to come to the terms. The twilight brightens... have to go!

Bargain.

I am always weak streak in this aspect of communication. But when life bargains, its a constant melodramatic tune that tries to over take all the melodies, be it the symphony or the chorus. The solo sounds with a deeper and heavier pitch. I just flounder the softer notes, get floundered by the heavier ones. Then, with sudden troke of luck, I feel so engrossed with the scenario that I forget that the promises and the dreams once met upon in some yester-day corner in the path called Life, I feel comforted, with the thought that atleast there is No One to stop me from getting the award of my fate. I smile. Luck never showered it's too favourite ambrosia into my daily bowl, that suddenly everything would start tasting sweet... just like Kalorie 1, the artificial sweetner with low calorie, so that the proverb that too much sweet turns bitter, the scenario doesnt arise out of no where, un expectedly.

I rock on the chair, trying to figure out my next step. I am in total confusion, God knows what will conspire... and I fail to smell WHAT'S COOKING!!!!

Restless Times.

It sometimes feel that it's not worth taking the next breathe. When a child, it felt so exciting to be an adult... no studies, no disciplines. Well the latter defines an individual, no doubt. Today, it seems that staring at the emoty burner has more to it. It burns the inner self. Lots of mistakes. Not just three mistakes, as Chetan Bhagat wrote in his latest story, The Three Mistakes of my Life. Haven't gone through the pages as yet.
This phase of utter boredom does nothing, except make you feel sultry. What to do, what not to do, all seems so sublime, that it is worth to follow a vapour take it's course in the thin air, compared to the non promising, yet hopeful future. Contrary eh? May be. May be the touch of restlessness have been printing its present in my blog articles even. Presiously this was a place I enjoyed to write many many many articles. Many of them have been appreciated, and for the sake of those I used to write. But now, that hunger has also subsided. So dumbed!

This life needs some colours. A get away would, as I think would do wonders! But where... and with whom. The group cannot come together with full efficacy, as people now have jobs to manage. Its no more student days, no more Ghatshila times ( the magical days, comparable to my class X excursions and Presi excursions.) Missing them, and missing those days have now become the burning restless activities of modern times, in my life. BUT....

Be cool.

The First Taste of an Interview.

It was a make shift shabby place, cleaned with eagerness, to bring forth an ambience of a place for interview. Rash Behari Avenue, 1:30 PM on 19/10/08. I reached there seeing a paper cutting. The post of a biolgy teacher in a residential school in Dehradun. The idea of the place sublimed my thoughts with Rockford, the famous residential school of Bollywood, directed by Rajesh Kukunoor. The man with Hyderbad Blues under his belt, served out of the most frequented life style in a boarding school. Although I wouldnt be the student in such a scenario, but to observe resudential school life from up close always romantacized my existing thoughts. More ever there was the idea of Dr. Arnold from Tom Brown School days, finding its location in England, penned down over half a century ago, if I am not mis-representing the time of the book.

Anyways, come back to the interview. In the world where the finances are going on a down hill ride all over, jobs and the pay scales were all except being attractive. And this interview was not an exception. The funniest part of it is that they didnt have a package, which irritated me the most. The gender bias was also prevalently present. The pay was random, with one constant thing, i.e, fooding and lodging. Some were payed F/L + Rs. 500 and for males the zenith was Rs. 2500, while for females with a similar post offer, had the zenith upto Rs.5000 - 6000 with fooding and lodging. This "chulkuni" for girls peeved me the most. When my turn came, they offered me Rs. 2000 with F/L. I just "literally" spat on their face, by saying a simple NO. Why not, every instituition has a starter pay package, and here it seemed that we were in a vendor market, having our degree and dignity on sale, in the market.

Idiots.

The Magic of Magik.

ROCK ON!!!

The movie that made the senses go back some three years ago, on the fields of Presidency, enjoying the groove of the Rock Music being served out by Fossils or Cactus or Jal or some other band, making the young legs swing to the maximum. Rock On, entitled with a catch line: "Live Your Dreams", really emphasises on the the importance to be what YOU are, and start making the steps to achieve your dream. The trademark of a winner is to manipulate the situation, rather than get manipulated by the situation. The latter case may see the "victim" with his or her boasting attitude about being flexible, but the truth is the person is very much a do-gone loser, as the principles and the dreams, the sole possession of an individual is all worn out and even lost!

Rock On makes it neccessity to Live Your Dreams. The music were fabulous and the settings were sweet. May be this is what Beatles could have done after the Great BreakUp, and created "Magic", oops... "Magik" again. Hats off to the concept.

Life Rocks!!!

MeltDown Point.

A war has been declared.
The warfront defined.
It cannot be blundered yet again, but the war is again all alone. The high-rises mocks my stand. They ridicules my soul. They pierce the whole existence, hollowed. They shreds me to pieces, peace floundered. Yet I drag myself, trying to reach the destination. Dont know whether that is possible or not, but....
I fail to be focussed.

Lonely Beach.

The roads were all empty. Coated with the wet sand in which was imprinted the footprints of some one who has gone, "tear"-smearing the golden sand. What seemed to be gold, time played the alchemist turning it to sand, unabling me to clasp it with all my might. It is such a losing feeling. The sea of tranquility would seem warmer, if I go there, for I feel nothing but cold. Even the famous iceberg that dipped the Titanic in the early 1900's would be warmer, making me sink into the crevices of pain, mis-adventure, lifeless excitements!

May be that is how things go. I am too illiterate, dumb, insensible, and mad to understand this. Atleast life portrays me like that. Thank You.

© Somnath Paul. Kovalam Beach, Kerala, January 2007.

It was a Bolt from the Blues...

With the financial instability griping all over the world, and I myself pondering over how to get along with the Project IGI and The Imperial Online, trying to take the "INDIA" alliance ahead of the Falcons and the Besingrs, it had always been the toughest to handle the post pijas week(s), bringing the unwanted tempting desires to strech out the Pujas vacations and keep Uma for a little longer.
This pujas have been sort of roam alone funda. But, I can admit that I covered from all the streches of the city, just to have a glimpse of some of the biggest masterpieces by artists from all over the state, decoring the metropolitan with "sculptures" and " cultures" from all over the India, world and even outside this earth!
Shuruchi Sangha brings the flavors of Assam while Behala Natun Dal brings out the idea of Chivalrous LandLords and their decline through dilapidated Zamindar (landlord) house. It was upto Ekdalia to bring the colours of peacock in light and so was Beniatola. Ahiritola made the bamboo canes bent like never before, staging the a cage-art while Barisha Club ensured us to acknowledge that whatever may be there has a beginning and an advancing end. There are many many more with Babubagan ensuring an elysian experience in it's pandal being made the Universe while there were pujas with the authentic taste of Baghbazar and Sovabazar. The pictures will be published soon.

Pandal Hoppings, Bitter Toppings...

When the whole of Bengal and the Bengali community basks in the festivities, the start came on a very bitter note with The TATA MOTORS pulling away from their commitments with Singur, in West Bengal. As the situation was seeping in with Santosh Mitra Square making a wit out of the whole fiasco of Singur, depicting a Lock in the Name of Industrialization in west bengal, thanks to Miss Mamata Banerjee, the second blow came in the form of Sourav Ganguly, the most cherished bengali batsman in the field of Cricket made a quite bolt, yet calculated and speculated announcement of his retirement from the International Cricket after the forthcoming Australia Tour.
It was time for Bengal to recluse in her nutshell of self arrogance and excessive egoism.

Cross Roads.

Come October 2008 and everyone looked forward for Happy Pujas yet again, in West Bengal and many Bengalis across the globe. But the eve of the puja got marred with the Tata Group CEO, Mr. Ratan Tata made it clear that the unrest in Singur have unfortunately not subsided and hence, because of their business commitments, they will not invest anymore in the Singur Project and would be moving out of the state. Following this announcement, Mr. Nirupam Sen said: " I dont wish to stay in bengal in anymore." And why not? This kind of self motivated revolution meant nothing for the commoner.
Miss Banerjee, the main culprit in the whole transaction kept to her stubborn promises, executing the proverb "As stubborn as a Mule", perfectly. After sucess in the recently concluded Panchyat elections, she thought of playing the perfect anarchist and overthrow another stubborn tap root, the Left front from the Writer's Building, and take over as the ruling party of West Bengal, which in the last three to four decades have not been possible. The plan got the required impetus, but as the saying goes, Its Not Your Cup of Tea, the success came like a monumentous World Cup which made the whole momentum of voting out the Left Front drowned mid way.
Today Tata goes. One of the main stream Business Indian Face in the world of Industrialization. An Indian Company showed the way out, in the Home Land, is simply a joke, a Clown and a Buccaneer played by some of the illiterates of West Bengal Politics.
Now the farmers there are at Cross Roads between living and death. They havelost theor money. Few have not even accepted the compensation, and it is for them that Miss Banerjee was fighting against injustice. There are soem trainees from the family who have given the land for industrilaization. They too have collected their last pay this Friday. There is no law of giving back the land. So what the HELL was SHE fighting for. Didnt she know the ruling? Didnt she know the law? If yes, then she shouldnt have allowed such a peculiar situation to rise. Of No, then I am sorry to say, she has been an illiterate politician all the way.