GREEN chick

We all live to eat and that's not the other way around, one of my best friend is now living at Nottingham for his PGs and as today we were chatting o'er many things right from the shrewed water glass marketing tactics at the "Yo Sushi" to the Chinese Breakfasts at the Territy  Bazar,Kolkata.... almost everything related to food, as we both have our very own food pilgrimage history .We had eaten at the very finest restaurants some times and on some other time we sat down on the foot-path to have a plate Bihari Litti, so it's a foodie talk. And my friend shared his recipe of Hariyali Chicken - actually what he has been eating for last few days. Pari, despatch a photo of your chick, buddy, I will attach that to the post - and here's the recipe I am copy pasting [ as it is ] -
ya ya !! I am a lazybone. I know.

X-mas Lunch @ Pari's Place, 2009 & the guy in green shirt with his backside peeping  at 10 o'clock  position is Pari and the lady in Sari , feeding us, is Kakima :), else the girl in peach cardigan is me and the girl wearing purple tunic is Pritha.

 dhone pata [coriander leaves] ar tar saathe mint leaves ar ginger garlic paste ar salt and ektu lemon tar saathe 1 cup curd ar ektu tandoori masala bas...shob diye paste tar por marinade the boneless thigh portions and then.. wrap it up in foil paper put it on a baking tray - put it in the oven - wait for 20 min at 200 degrees - now open the wrapped mouths and put the oven in grill mode - bar....tar porei...ecstasy...!!!!!


So, go people and have it and post the pix at FB, sure I will do mine. And Pari , next time there will be our very own PANTAmissu recipe - I hope.

Photo From - The Economist by Steve O'Brien

And of course we talked about what Katie 'n Will did today!!! :D 

Monologue from Pan's Labyrinth

A long time ago, in the underground realm, where there are no lies or pain, there lived a Princess who dreamed of the human world. She dreamed of blue skies, soft breeze, and sunshine. One day, eluding her keepers, the Princess escaped. Once outside, the brightness blinded her and erased every trace of the past from her memory. She forgot who she was and where she came from. Her body suffered cold, sickness, and pain. Eventually, she died. However, her father, the King, always knew that the Princess' soul would return, perhaps in another body, in another place, at another time. And he would wait for her, until he drew his last breath, until the world stopped turning...

And it is said that the Princess returned to her father's kingdom. That she reigned there with justice and a kind heart for many centuries. That she was loved by her people. And that she left behind small traces of her time on Earth, visible only to those who know where to look.

"Many, many years ago in a sad, faraway land, there was an enormous mountain made of rough, black stone. At sunset, on top of that mountain, a magic rose blossomed every night that made whoever plucked it immortal. But no one dared go near it because its thorns were full of poison. Men talked amongst themselves about their fear of death, and pain, but never about the promise of eternal life. And every day, the rose wilted, unable to bequeath its gift to anyone... forgotten and lost at the top of that cold, dark mountain, forever alone, until the end of time."

Now, The whole sky is for me

Valentine's Day always reminds me of the book ''Little Prince''. I know, it's a children book 'n one of my favourites. Yet, growing up I've found it more 'matured' than ever. Only immature thing I did was to write once a good-bye note based on its last chapter - "All men have the stars," and when I was being asked - ''if this is for me, hell... I'd be damn proud!''
I kept mum...

"And at night you will look up at the stars. Where I live everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to be found. It is better, like that. My star will just be one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens . . . they will all be your friends. And, besides, I am going to make you a present . . .

All men have the stars, but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were wealth. But all these stars are silent. You--you alone--will have the stars as no one else has them--

In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night . . . You--only you--will have stars that can laugh !

And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure . . . And your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you . . .

It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh . . .

You know, it will be very nice. I, too, shall look at the stars. All the stars will be wells with a rusty pulley. All the stars will pour out fresh water for me to drink . . .

That will be so amusing! You will have five hundred million little bells, and I shall have five hundred million springs of fresh water . . ."

Now I have changed. That's not a news. That was something inevitable. But I have grown up into something else. That is different. Now things are more like : on 14th eve, where we both 've met years ago, I will shout ''RUN FOREST RUN" for you. You can chant - RUN LOLA RUN!!! Depending on how you feel. 


But I will always feel better. Because, now I have my stars. The whole sky is for me. 

Dialogues on Social Media [ interview for my dissertation paper on - Social Media : The Transition of Human Interaction in a Democratic Model with the Emergence of New Age Digital Marketing Platform ]

Mr.Aditya Kabir is the Planning Director in Asiatic JWT, Dhaka, Bangladesh. Being into account planning he's well aware about the social media and it's marketing aspects. Over telephonic conversation on 7 January,2011, with Elina Sen, he provided more comprehensive ideas on Social Media and how it affects our social proximity and its power to provide a 360 degree product showcase in digital domain.

Elina : What do you feel about Social Media and its aspects regarding human interaction and providing a digital marketing platform ?

Aditya : In Social Media the contents are not only generated by the manufacturers, the active participation of end users makes it a dynamic platform. With Web2.0 it’s truly providing a two way traffic between the providers and the users. Unlike Web1.0, where the contents provided by the manufacturers were paramount, now in social media the end users are taking active participation. In social media dialogue the company is a small provider only, they can start up the conversation in the domain, but not necessarily they would have to be the initiators always. Social Media is empowering users beyond any previous limits seen before.

Elina : With more power, do the users feel more cared for ?

Aditya : For the audience and the audience attention - this presents an wonderful opportunity. when engaged right - they can feel so empowered and cared-for, that the right use of social media can create loyal out of casuals and fans out of loyals. Here audience-feedback is instantaneous, direct and... well... often surprising. We did surveys and the most striking fact emerged as 85% of Facebook contents are the users’ comments. Not the notes written or the photos and videos uploaded.

Elina : What is the main criteria to sustain in this digital marketing domain ?

Aditya : Social media seems difficult. So many groups and like-pages and network-pages and individual profiles exist. so many options. and... really... haven't we seen most of these pages and groups failing? For instance, take a look at those dozens of groups Nokia created all are floating in limbo from the very outset. Even the Airtel launch page in Facebook are flooded on queries over tariff plans. The product has to be very engaging with its content. It must have that attitude to propagate in this era of Attention Economy. The old frame of product endorsements will soon be out of fashion, the product has to evolve with time. A popular soap like Kyunki Saas Bhi.... might enjoy many folds viewership on TV over Prannoy Roy’s NDTV talk show, but on social media later would gain momentum through nationwide active participation of audience. The soap won’t have the same attitude in social media, it will be weeded out with no shelf life.
And so the brand must have that much of engaging power into its booty, no matter how bigger be the name is. Tell me, what Nirma has to offer with its current image in this forum. Even Coke’s rigid promotional model won’t incur much in these, rather take Mountain Dew - it’s creating the much needed vibes. Separate Facebook page of Nescafe for its new ad-campaign with Deepika Padukon is creating buzz over Facebook. The campaign strategies must be tailored - keeping in mind the forum of Social Media.

Elina : Talking about shelf life, the whole social media seems so dynamic...

Aditya : Yes, it’s like getting zeitgeist with the real time. Now what is real time ? See, when SRK came to Dhaka last month, a guy named Gaji Illias was called upon stage just like other SRK shows, he was total drunk and made a total fool out of himself. But with his 8 minutes of infamy, within an hour dozens of Social Media spaces were covered on his name, even Facebook fan pages came up in no time. This is it. This instantaneousness is the real time. Things come up in social media platform before they make way to the main stream media. In fact the line dividing them is getting blurred nowadays,

Elina : So, what should be the objectives for the endorsers ?

Aditya : The product has to be interesting and most important people behind it must have enough engaging capacity. For manufacturers with active audience participation there will be no scope to lie about their products, they have to be honest if they want to survive and they must be interesting. With no hinge no bar people’s feedback, today they have to adopt themselves into a more flexible cast.

Elina : and there is YouTube adding to this dynamics...

Aditya : It’s a mind boggling domain within social media. If you decide to see all the user generated video in YouTube, uploaded in a single day, you will need 476 years. This is the most dynamic aspect in social media platform. It has made the TV an interactive medium. Many commercials are now gains people’s attention through YouTube viewership. With facebook open graph the traffic of viewers can be mapped, this gives a better leg up in planning. A short film “Bhoutik” is directed by a friend, when promoted in YouTube, it was seen that 50% viewership came with Facebook sharing. The like, share, recommend plugins of Facebook is bringing everything in a single platform.

Elina : these whole thing giving me the feeling of George Orwell-ish vision of future when we will start living in our profiles instead of our lives.

Aditya : [ Laughing along ] not that of course. Hope not. But it’s true, sooner or later the whole system will come under the umbrella of social media, we have to make it better, if not flawless.

Elina : Already, Israel Ministry of Foreign Affairs are connecting with people world wide through their Facebook Page, Hugo Chavez has his direct twitter account to address Venezuelans grievances. So it will become more constructive in future and more omnipresent.

Aditya : For South Asia , social media is primarily, secondarily and tertiarily just the facebook. LinkedIn, Twitter - other social networks are almost non-existent here.So social media will develop here and world wide, and they will develop more and more rapidly.


Epilogue - Conclusion On Social Media Bubble - Making Social Media A More Pertinent Platform  :

We are in the middle of a zeitgeist, human behavior is constantly changed by technology,whether the behavior is intended or an offshoot. Many will argue about the frivolous approach that social networking sites adopts apparently, but it must be remembered that users of social media constitute a broad spectrum of age group of 15-35 and in today’s urban societies the consumer buying capacity falls into the age group of 26-35 and onwards. So statistically Social Media caters to a very important dissection of society’s crossroad. Social Media connects us , reconnects us, provides news feeds, makes us aware of the current surroundings. Like air it can’t be seen in shape , yet it’s there and we are standing under its umbrella. World is becoming more open through it, walled gardens are no more locked up. With the user centric web in rise, we all are living our lives along with its cyber extensions because our cyborg nature is breathing life in the domain of social media. If English author George Orwell were present today, he might have come up with a new novel sequel of “1984”, where human populations are profiled in the Zion of the social networking sites, each of their activities are monitored and stored in the world wide web servers. George Orwell only had his thoughts but today the fact is more stark than it was imagined before. In the science fiction written by Philip K Dick, the author has raised the rhetoric - “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?” We are not there yet. Yet, it’s true that - We feel comfortable to see ourselves on Profiles to avoid being an Unsub ; "There's something reassuring about seeing an irregularly-shaped organic body confined in a rigidly rectangular framework. That's why we built zoos. That's why we built prisons. That's why we built cities." And now we thrive in the Zion of Social Media.

Republic day and us

Republic Day - it's not a mere emotive in excess. in a salad bowl nation, where two and many distinct cultures, way of lives mix - it becomes necessary to celebrate a common cause, a cause which has build this nation. democracy was not only earned in 1950, day by day with many positive changes around we are striving for it even today. and that for sure calls for a celebration. Cheers!


:) :) :) 

unrelenting demand for JPC : Right or Wrong

So far it has come out that US$ 38.27 billion has been lost to the exchequer. No matter what as an opposition BJP conveys, it's undeniable that stalling the winter forum in parliament has added a few more billions to it. Whether it was right or wrong - asking may not yield a definitive answer cause it's going to be more complex with time, yet a question can be asked whether it was justifiable stance? BJP spokesperson Mr. Arun Jaitley has said over media for numerous times that concerning the Radia tape controversy - it's evident that the systems through out the country are plagued by scams and so far according to him and rest of many opposition parties like TDP,CPM and many congress allies like TMC, all are asking for JPC relentlessly.

Their point is, in joint parliamentary probe everyone and anyone in this working Govt. will be answerable for their actions and the related repercussions. Still a common man can raise a question how much this relentless stalling of Parliament is justified, as already it came out in studies that a minute of disruption in parliament causes Rs. 2600 loss of public money. Though opposition is claiming that their relentless demand for JPC and as a repercussion, the stalling of Parliament has caused Raja losing his portfolio and so they believe it has given momentum in CBI investigation and CAG probe.

Debates are inevitable within working structures of any democratic state and these debates are what makes our nation keep going. So, stalling parliament session, is justified or not, will be asked for several times in near future. In Shakespeare's Julius Caesar,Cassius told Brutus : The fault is not in our stars dear Brutus, it's within us. A true democracy can work only in its proper management of parliamentary system. Demanding relentlessly for JPC could be a part of it, without creating any hindrance within it. Common People like us still have their faiths over the functions of our justice body. The process will enfold its result in front of us in its due time. We can strive only to make things better, as it has been the only workable motto that only works here and keeps the common-man in us going .

Under the Shadow of Blasphemy

Islam Believes in Freedom - Wahiduddin Khan

Blasphemy is in the news. According to general perception, Islam prescribes capital punishment to a person who indulges in blasphemy, that is using profane language against the Prophet of Islam. But this concept of blasphemy is completely alien to the original teaching of Islam. Before the advent of Islam, difference of belief was also punishable act. They used to punish on matters of belief just as on mats of social crime. This old practice is called religious persecution in history. Islam abolished this practice. The prophet of Islam declared that personal belief is a subject of discussion and persuasion rather than a legal punishment.

However, if non-believers use profane language against the Prophet, Muslims are directed not to react. They have only two options, either to simply ignore it or to respond on equal basis, that is, issuing statement in return for a statement. The Quran says : " The recompense of an ill-deed is an the like thereof (42:20)." According to this injunction, reaction must be on equal basis, that is, word in return for word, statement in return for statement, book in return for book.

If you go through the Quran and the hadith ( sayings and actions of the Prophet of Islam ), the only two authentic sources of Islam, you will find that there is not a single Quraniv verse or hadith that gives this kind of injunction which says: " Man shatama nabiyakum faqtuluhu. ( Kill the person who commits blasphemy against the Prophet )."

Such an injunction was added in the Islamic law only during the Abbasid caliphate, about 150 years after the death (632 AD) of the Prophet. Although the majority of the Fuqaha ( Muslim jurists )of the period accepted the law, it was clearly an innovation which is not acceptable in Islam.

According to a well known hadith, there are three authentic periods of the Islamic history: the period of the Prophet, and the period of Sahaba ( companions of the prophet ), and the period of Tabein ( companions of the companions ). It is a fact that all the Fuqaha belonged to the Abbasid period which came after these authentic periods. According to a hadith. the Prophet of Islam has said : " I have left behind for you thaqaalan, two authentic sources of Islam: the book of God, and the Sunnah of the Prophet. You will not astray till you adhere to these authentic sources." (Mu'atta malik, hadith no. 1661). And those additions made by thee Muslim jurists of the later history are certainly not a part of the authentic sources. According to this Islamic injunction, if there is a person who commits blasphemy , then the responsibility of Muslims is to meet him and persuade him and to remove his misunderstandings by peaceful means and if supposing he fails to understand then Muslims are left only with only one option, that is to pray for him.

There is ample of evidence that tells us what to do in such cases. For example, once when Prophet was in Mecca, one idol worshipper came to him and told him face to face. " Muzammanan abaina (O Muhammad you are a condemned person.)" The Prophet simply smiled. The smile was a kind of a moral response and was bound to hit his conscience. He fell into introspection. And after some time he accepted him as the Prophet, and became one of his followers.

Islam greatly believes in freedom of expression. i would like to say that the secular law of India in this context is more Islamic than the so-called Islamic law of Pakistan.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wahiduddin Khan is an Islamic spiritual scholar and founder of Center for Peace and Spirituality International

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wahiduddin_Khan

as published on January 24,2011 edition of India Today

Bluebird by Charles Bukowski

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but
I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see you.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but
I pour whiskey on him and inhale cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks never know that
he's in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay down,
do you want to mess me up?
you want to screw up the works?
you want to blow my book sales in Europe?

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out but I'm too clever,
I only let him out at night sometimes

when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be sad.


then I put him back,
but he's singing a little in there,
I haven't quite let him die
and we sleep together like that
with our secret pact and it's nice enough
to make a man weep, but I don't weep, do you?




P.S. This was published in Bukowski's book "The Last Night of the Earth Poems" circa 1992

The Snake I Feared

What's the most lethal Snake on this earth ? 

When asked, the answers I got many.... from the African Black Mamba to the Indian King Cobra, from the Ancient Basilisk to the Amazonian Boa Constrictor and so many other deadly names of the dangerous slithering vipers. 

I got scared. 

I paused and then realized only Snake I should fear is what had me just bitten.

what a colour looks like ? how will I define it ? only I know one thing that me and you are blessed. Blessed in a way more than we can imagine...

The car broke down, we did push push...

Today’s morning was as usual, mundane. Waking up early, getting ready. Gobbling few bites with a quick slurp of tea. Zooming to the car, BAM! Slamming the door, and zapping through the morning traffic. While driving, a middle aged man was moronically crossing the road, without giving a look what was coming in his way. I with my moral obligation gave him a stern flying comment : "don’t you have any brakes on your feet?" He stared hard and so did I with more intensity. Then blabbering to myself, this morons are polluting the class of jay walkers. They lack the basic acrobatic skills. Few more morons I faced during rest of my drive. I was punctual as usual but only got it by whisker, as usual. I passed the key to our home caretaker and told him to drive the car back home safely. This is the picture, in a regular entrainment happens over and over in my life , like all other things that happen daily.

About almost two hours later, mother called. Tensed. She told me the car hadn't  arrived back. So many possibilities passed my mind, in a flash. Zoom! Each of them was worst than previous.Possibilities are astronomically enormous. Ranging from bone tickling funny to sordid gruesome.Good, it happened in salt lake. If the stage was to be set on the vastness of main city kolkata…rest you can imagine! I hung up, telling her not to worry, because I am here to make things all right.

Easier it was said than done. I was clueless. I fumbled to the girl I was talking to, made vague excuses and zapped out from there. On the street, a fear of uncertainty grappled within me. Told you, possibilities are enormous. I rushed to the rickshaw stand. Hailed the standing one in queue and told him precisely what I’m going to look for in the by rodes of salt lake, within the possibilities of trajectories from that place to the way back home. And the search begun. I asked the rickshaw-wala if any road accident happened. Answer was negative but at the same time load inside me was getting heavy.

Tension dissolved. Ma called me back telling me the exact location of the place where the car had broken down. Achinto da has lost his mobile few moths back. And this lost baggage has given him a big relief by providing an excuse of not being available to the people he works for. So while he pushed the car to a more safer place with most tactile maneuver possible, we were being frenzied. Anyway, all’s well that goes well. I got there ASAP.

Immense , yes that’s the word. Immense relief prevailed when I got a glance of my car. I called dad over phone . He was as usual cool and a pillar support whenever things go wrong with me. And better he restrained himself from bragging me about the car he drives himself, always reminding me how good are this new cars with all those features. As if with all new things he gets, the old becomes someone elses! But fact is , I am touchy about my good old car. I love it. I have so many memories with it, and with all of it’s predecessors. Don’t find it funny, I treat cars of any make with reverence. It’s a fetish I nurture. Like my fetishes with shoes, watches, and bags !

The mechanic asked me if we can somehow manage to move at home with the car, as he can’t come right now. With all the symptoms at hand, dad told me: might be like last time it’s the distributor system’s problem. So we have to drive it in a steady way. When it stops, where ever it stops, we have to wait to allow the engine to become cool and then have to move ahead. Daunting. We started. The car got stopped at some crossing next time. It was an ideal hit by bus and run for your life place. Both me and Achinto da had to get out of the car to give it a push. Achinto da steered and pushed from the front while I was pushing from the back. It was a treat for the passerby! To see a well dressed girl to push a car, not everyone sees on their way. But they only laughed. I giggled back.

Getting into the safe alley nearer home. I took a break and took a snap of Achinto pushing the car. Wish someone could be there to take my snap of pushing and getting reduced to perspiration. It’d have provided me a helluva of inspiration later on. So the credo was push, push and push. I kept thinking if it’s a toy car, I could have pulled it. Mechanically more apt. Crazy thoughts. Never go away. This way and that way, finally we reached home. And the world got saved.

P.S : The car came back from the garage. She is okay. Only was a minor problem. She’s gonna stay with me for better and for the best. I am happy with a smile on my face.


here is an addendum with the photo :
an unmistakable fact came upon me while I was seeing the photo later on : Next time I should be more appreciative towards the sartorial senses of Achinto da. His lethal combo of green tee and orange bermuda was quite an apt attire for pushing the car on street, while mine was quite a blunder, brown tee with jeans and pushing a brown car while buses kept coming with great roars from behind on the prime office time. Vulnerable. According to my cousin, Achinto da is more like the version of Bilbo Baggins, more than what meets the eye!

Coming into light...end of the tunnel

I used to feel amused whenever I'd come across anyone wailing in despair. Well, basically I'm not that type of going overboard on emotional terrains. Quietness and solitude, I feel comfortable with. I enjoy good laugh while contemplating alone over sun besetting at the western sky. The birds coming back to their nest or flocking at the higher turrets in neighborhood, creating a dulcet chirping backdrop. A sad overtone was always there, breeding within the core of my quietness. But this time it was different. This time I wasn't strong. Eager to rebound on my own like I did before. Not this time. This time for the very first moment, I felt the pain that comes with it, it wasn't a luxury. The more I tried to show my back  to it. the more it get over my shoulders like a phantom, bound to haunt me.

What is scary? Do you know ? The scariest thing is when you try to make yourself forget something with all your might, summoning all your will...yet you find it's not waning, not leaving , not going away. The scariest thing is when your right side of brain keeps telling you the coldest logics, dissecting each and every facts up to their farthest bottom and making yourself submissive to the nemesis, yet your left brain keep telling you to look beyond the glass ceiling and to keep the fool's hope kindled. Hope is good as long as it's validated by standings of facts. I still abhor the way people makes the show of grief a staggering opera performance. But I also feel the empathy that makes that whole thing being staged.Only now I can feel it.Only now.

But with all and everything, I am not ashamed to feel blues and I am not awkward to express it, even if it sounds pathetic. I know I won't make it pathetic. I will retrace the footsteps and become a brood like I used to be. But I do have something. That survives me. Faith. Somehow I do have this immense faith on me. That no matter how deep is water, I'll swim across. Somehow. Cause I am far from figuring out, how it works. Maybe life compels us to learn. My learning curve never reaches a peak. I learn and still falter and again I learn. I am alive and so I do exist. My faith keeps me going. That one day it will be good. Not only for a few moments passing by. That time, it will stay with me for a while.

''All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.''

What was she thinking? Photo-shopped memories...

She had a picture perfect childhood along its memories. But she's feeling lately that in few places if it could be photo-shopped, cropping out a few people who're hazardous and making that left behind vacant portions filled up by the soothing pastel moments, that could've been a hell lot of fun. Forgetting was her forte. But now it's more like a horror when she's trying to wipe out something, yet she can't.

To my gravedigger

I'm almost on a verge to check in the heartbreak hotel. The partouze will soon be over, I'll wear the same mourning clothes just like everyone, but let that be on tomorrow. Today I'll live like there was no tomorrow to think about. There will be no tomorrow to look forward. It's today that only have I got. So do not scorn me for being a fool to dream on. It's today I live. It's today that always stays with me forever, making my limits stretched to immortality.


I'm abhorring the sights of the people exhibiting the grief  in manifolds, cloaked like the old druids within the circle of Stonehenge...forgetting it was the life we all supposed to celebrate. Grief is inevitable but erecting a disfigured tomb of Nosferatu, like a melancholy franchise.... hardly I can afford that. Tears drips down but it's the Lestat, I've chosen myself to become. Trying to find a meaning from the darkness within .

I'm human—my "memory is no more than a sieve". Time heals all wounds for my kind."Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me''...it will; what I'm finding hardest to forgo, it will pass over with each trickle of warm blood through my veins.

But still a question rages within, whether is it out of compulsion we are made prone to sadness? The whole erection of vampire Nosferatu is sucking my blood and leaving me numb. Battles are lost without being fought. Self-appointed adversities are vindictive about my slipping away. I'd tried to rise up and to feel the taste of rouge but I didn't care. It wasn't a disaster. I lost two cities, lovely ones, a vaster realm once I called my own. Many emotions were washed down when the banks of the two rivers on those two places were flooded. Like places, peoples were lost too. No, it's still not a disaster. Though it looks like one. And it will look like so, when I will lose the city I'm in, with the river flowing through it, people I loved here and the whole the continent.

Pertinent problem I'm facing is : when I try to look back in some of those few moments, I thought I complete. I don't find any faces to remember. The faces, those were visible then, not that I'd to imagine them. But back in here, now it's only words I do remember. Black and white words of happiness, sorrow, despair, joy and exhilaration. I'm not allowed to dream. No no, not here. Elsewhere I am free. Here it would be bad, like it's worse to take someone else's toy while they were asleep. Bound to my little existent conscience, through the mazes in my sub conscious what roams and haunts my dream is only memories. But memories devoid of moments. It's only the dialogues but who are delivering them, can't be seen. I slept today and for last few days only with words swirling inside my mind. Without any shapes and feel. Only the past is always dancing in the tune of my present.

Still under the splendid suns, around the veil of morning mists and along the blowing winds....life is worthy of all the turmoils. While the few glimpses of serene peace are the reflections of those moments where I've fallen in love with it over and over again.

Thought home could be a safer refuge, going there...back in home, spending few moments in reflection of past meets present would assuage the suffocation. But suddenly the barriers got forged stronger and higher...it's seeming impossible to scale. Not really, but what seems as what they are. I miss my winters back home. I miss the prolonged autumns, ushering with rainy showers while stretched along with dewy mists. I miss the dry springs with sudden arrival of storms over parched advent in summer. I don't miss the summer that much. May be because I am going through my balmy summers. That's gonna be staying around for a while. In fact I miss my home and the small town but never agree to the fact that I do...deep rooted it might seem that I know, I can never go back home, stuck at the carousal of metropolis, I'm not going to find out the reason behind my self denial, not that the truth would be something I must avoid at all cost, I felt it long before I can express, but I know somehow that I don't want to be liberated from that bondage, knotted somewhere, better remain not found and untouched. 

My Ghost Story : an autopsy on my kill

kill the bull.
As many as you want...

Their stomping in virility only creates disturbia.


But...


"Remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird...Mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy... but sing their hearts out for us. That's why it's a sin to kill a mockingbird.''


A bull only needs a bulldozer , nothin' else.

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A mixed aftertaste

''হায় বুদ্ধিহীন মানবহৃদয় ! ভ্রান্তি কিছুতেই ঘোচে না, যুক্তিশাস্ত্রের বিধান বহুবিলম্বে মাথায় প্রবেশ করে, প্রবল প্রমাণকেও অবিশ্বাস করিয়া মিথ্যা আশাকে দুই বাহুপাশে বাঁধিয়া বুকের ভিতরে প্রাণপণে জড়াইয়া ধরিতে যায়, অবশেষে একদিন সমস্ত নাড়ী কাটিয়া হৃদয়ের রক্ত শুষিয়া সে পলায়ন করে, তখন চেতনা হয় এবং দ্বিতীয় ভ্রান্তিপাশে পড়িবার জন্য চিত্ত ব্যাকুল হইয়া উঠে |'' - by Rabindranath Tagore

Autumn Day / Rainer Maria Rilke

Lord: it is time. The summer was immense.
Lay your shadow on the sundials
and let loose the wind in the fields.

Bid the last fruits to be full;
give them another two more southerly days,
press them to ripeness, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.

Whoever has no house now will not build one
anymore.
Whoever is alone now will remain so for a long
time,
will stay up, read, write long letters,
and wander the avenues, up and down,
restlessly, while the leaves are blowing.

_________________________________

Yonder the horizon, I'll untether my wings

A girl like me. A lazy girl like me. A lazy girl who doesn't look like a couch potato but can give any of them run for their money on any given day...ok enough! Here's a confession. It's the day five. Exact 5 days ago on 29th June, I suddenly clicked and made this blog happen. Oh yes! JLT! But the name was decided a long ago, exactly a self coined phrase "Sméagol & the Orange marmalade", I use it for myself now and then. I'm feeling like hitting the sack again. But still it's good to know that it's good. Before retracing the footsteps and exploring that beyond horizon.

But I would like to listen more. It might be a hiatus from the flow, and will provide some moments of solitude, I pine only now and then with a stop gap of intermittent frequencies. I started the blog because I wanted to see how much I can pull with a theme of a colour which is not my best colour at all. Yes, Orange, I like them to see, but in my room there hardly any code orange. My favourite colour is something from a very different spectrum. But I like all the colours and now more I see to it , more an orange-Y world is taking shape right in front of me and it's beautiful. There're few things in my head, few drafts which may spill and take shape as more orange-Y . Let see where it takes. But a word of caution, next thing would be a depth charge, not an Orange candy.

The irony is we take a pause during conversation only to start again, rebounding back but in the meanwhile we forget the most important part, listening.

I've said it already. I want to listen. Listen to what matters most and what may stir attention.

Listening is important, if we don't want to end up like the wicked queen, who'd only listened what she wanted to, overlooking the truth in the magic mirror. I keep losing that magic mirror more often. Sometime someone else holds that for me. But I can't be precious. So this time I seek my own magic mirror and I'll keep that for a while.

There might be few more orange-Y-ness to come but the colour will be on the backdrop to make a dark matter look lesser grim. Told you, it would be a hard hitting allegro not a serenade. Meanwhile let me untether my wings. While I'll roam around the farthest corner, darkest nook of the labyrinth of the dark alleys, where only shadows loom large, might be on my way back, I'll make myself understand again the importance of light.

I'd made a line from Plath's ''Mad Girl's Love Song'' as something of my very own,"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.'', but that was before the wake of my naiveté. Though, might be I'm still high on it. At least now I also know, "I have to believe that when my eyes are closed, the world's still there"... and "We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are. I'm no different."

I dreamt an Orange-Y dream : a dream comes and goes but never stays

Prologue [on 11th July, prior to the Final match] : This awesome self caricature is created by Avik Kumar Maitra, living in Groningen, Nederland...one of the biggest German supporters I've ever come across, still mourning over that Octopusy glitch, hope last night's win may have assuaged his pain. Thanks Avikda, for giving a free rein to be creative beside your creation. But I'm being in a ''messed up messiah'' state for now, couldn't have doffed off something more original along with it, thereby incorporating it here. "আসছে world cup নাহয় আবার হবে !''

Here's the main post :
I've been supporting Germany since birth, JLT. It's a common de facto in any urban Indian household [ not about only supporting FIFA teams, but being soccer frenzied ] , specially if that house speaks in Bengali ;-) . Basically Brazil supporters are much more in volume and weight. They are omnipresent. Like in my house, my whole household goes gaga over Brazil and that would make Lady Gaga insecured and frowned up instead of being a poker faced.

But since the time, I don't know when, I do like Orange-y Nederland...might be it was during grade 2 primary school. I was fascinated by center forward Ruud Gullit, basically by his curly locks. Now come on! I do have same kind of curls and I know how hellish they could be but still he made it, '' oh! so nice'' ...so Orange-Y or Not Orange-y, I do support them. And...and It has been proven we all do feel solidarity with the underdogs. And please don't give me that C-R-A-P of Brazil being underdog heroes! Frankly they are elite in this universe, where in any game a caste system builts up right out of thin air. In classrooms, toppers are elitist. In society, the rich are elitist. In soccer field so is Brazil. And their economy is booming like ours and like SA [ remember the IBSA lobby, we all three have formed as a superpower of future where China is trying to make a desperate entry in United Nations ! ]

But the pain in my heart is , who will win the next QF match? Germany is my favourite but all my peers are going gung ho about Argentines :( , on the street of kolkata blue-white stripped flags are hanging from the sky. Zugzwang zugzwang zugzwang , like life, you can't have your cake and eat it all the time my pearly peers :D. I'm humble. Might be Germany , might be Argentina. It's a Klose call, I'm pining my vuvuzela for the former.

But when will my country be playing on the FIFA World Cup? For real. I am not the one to be easily satisfied, at least not on this. So after getting to see the FIFA cup right in front of me , within a distance of few centimeters , I am sentimental. It's the dream, that comes and goes but never stays. It would be a blasphemy of highest degree to expect my country's 'effwitted' football officials to get up so early from their deep pocketed slumbers. Better they be off to sleep, like our forefathers, we will keep supporting either Europe or Latin America, without realizing the ''Mammaries of our Soccer Welfare'', we will be obliged to keep supporting Brazil as a pseudo nation under the shadows of the giants.

P.S. :But one of my deed, I'm feelin' good about, I've got this opportunity to support the cause ''1 Goal Education For All''.

And here comes the latest P.S. : Brazil is sent off by the mighty Orange-Y, good to see the status quo being crumbled down, I will drive the speed roller over the rest!! :)

Orange-Y Madness

Maverick! Surely I am not joking, all he'd wanted and sang for it...

"I want to have my Orange Juice...Juju jus jus Orange Juice..."

See the video, and forget it, but I bet you won't forget the beat and the tempo. The streak of madness is quite contagious. It's ubiquitous. Brings out the zest within.

If there is any, get sure about that first. If it seems lost. Don't stare blank at your PC screen, go out in wild and find it. Fast, be quick!

Now, did he get it at last ? The Orange Juice. Well, Sarah ran down to her fridge to pour him a glass!! :)

Once our synthetic chem. professor told us, that education is lending your ears to everything without losing your temper. Surely it's the humility and innocence embracing the unknown that keep the STARS apart.

Orange-Y Likenesss : An ode to Orange

Many reasons,I do have a likeness for anything that goes like more orange-y...smell of orange flowers, squirting orange peels into each other's faces when we were all kids. I am in love, with the smell and taste of oranges. If oranges were purple instead of orange-y, I'd have loved them with same candor. Personally I am not into incorporating orange into my wardrobe, simply this isn't my colour, it looks palatable and what looks palatable can't be or rather shouldn't be worn.
;-)

GOLDSPOT, we all had it in childhood. At least, if you've lived in 90's India. Goldspot and Uncle chips were our integral part of having brush ups with non existent junk foods on that era.
It was great, softy and so children always had it for their outings. Gradually we graduated into Coke and Pepsi. But Goldspot holds a similar fondness inside our heart. Tangy sweet, making our tongue orange-Y while tickling it with it's sour notes and making our little hands and dresses sticky in spills and swirls. RIP Goldspot.

A regular incidence of childhood, baba after returning from work, used to take me out for a walk to the park nearby. And the bate was, either I can have a Goldspot or a Kwality ice-cream. Not both. I used to choose one on my way to the park but on returning home I used to nag for the other one, they both were amazing like the"wunderbar"....another one to RIP with the dusty Goldspot bottles . Thankfully Snickers and other orange fizz came to fill up the void with similar calorific gluttony. Though I'm more into coke now, liquid or powdered.

Now let's get down to the business, shall we? why my blog has gotten such a compounded weird name, Sméagol & the Orange marmalade ?! Orange Marmalade is my favourite and only jam I can withstand on the breakfast table. I do have a ''Lord of the rings'' hangover, so Gollum's hissing of ''m(ah)y preciousss'' is bitter-sweet to my ears. A big Godfather hangover is there but all can't be incorporated at the same place, just imagine the horror if the blog goes by the name of ''Sméagol & the Orange marmalade : straightened them out'' . So I'm leaving the gun behind and taking the cannoli instead. Safe and sweet. It's all about having a Sicilian Orange in my heart.:)

Where the home is...

Isaiah 11:6:
"In that day the wolf and the lamb will live together;
the leopard will lie down with the baby goat.
The calf and the yearling will be safe with the lion,
and a little child will lead them all."

Surely we all dream about that day, the day when people will forget to be rude, under the marmalade sky and the tangerine trees children will play, no giants will stop them. Babies laughter will sound like sweet lemon drops. Over the rainbow, somewhere that place exists, our very own Ithaca...that we all carry in our heart. We carry within us. We take our refuge there to sober down any sorrows and wails.That place is like a land of tears, yes...such a secret place. A very place of our own where our streaks of madness of any degree, our laughters and giggles are all unbound and free. That's a place where we build our sanctuary. All our abstract thoughts take shape and become our raison d'être. That place makes us what we really are, or better what we could become one day. It's a journey home. The destination is unknown but the sceneries and landscapes around are wonderful.