Only time i detested the sight of Deepikas legs

Patriotism is a word we very often come across since the days we learn our a for apples and b for balls. For sake of political correctness, our history and social studies are replete with tales of patriotic tales of some of our revered heroes. For the sake of pure literary analysis, patriotism is bathed in paradox. A word that derives its origins from the word father and yet, it  is defined as love for motherland. I don’t know how to define patriotism in words that satisfies me leave alone some inadvertent reader of this post. But bowing before the kiss principle “Keep it stupid and simple” – I can safely say many a stories, many a videos raise goosebumps in my heart. Probably those are distinctly observable patriotic heartbeats of my life.

For any Indian to have grown up in the doordarshan age, “Mile Sur mera tumhara” is no alien permutation of letters. It was a collection of notes that somehow struck a chord in our heart.In my first years of life,i understood very little of what was not spoken in Assamese. So, my earliest memories of this song was waiting for the single sentence that I could understand. As a juvenile who was yet to reach his teens, I could not draw any deep philosophical meaning of the joy I got from watching this song but as self acclaimed wise 23-year-old, I guess this video was my first realization of my being a part of the mosaic called “India”.

Having dwelt on my beautiful memories of the “original mile sur”, it goes without saying that I feel a kind of ownership over this song. I feel my life is incomplete without this song.For last few days, there was a lot of screaming about a new “mile sur”.  I was looking forward to it and my hopes were ignited by the new version of Vande Mataram released on India’s fiftieth Independence Day. For the people who cry a lot about religion, this song was revamped by a muslim.

Some hopes are created only to be crushed, some aspirations remain aspirations forever never finding the strength to crossover to the real world. My first glimpse of this video at you tube filled me with rage. The first image was of “Vodafone” and “zoom”. By no distortion of reality can both be labeled as national icons. icons that define the new resurgent India. But staying true to the truest interpretation of the word “trailer”, this new mile sur had more assaults on my memory in store. The next image that really dealt the death knell on the coffin of my hopes was of deepika padukone in skimpy one-piece enjoying some water-fall. To give a brief background of me morally I am an average IITian. I am all for more open society. If there is fan club making sex compulsory in movies, I would be among the first to promote it. I lament that I am ,soon, going to be  a 24-year-old virgin. Normally any sexy girls legs and more of anatomy are something i crave for. But when one looks forward to feeling proud of being an Indian, somehow lust and patriotism do not mix well. The rest of the video was watched with rage and contempt with  a single-minded dedication to pick more loopholes. I gave up for i found only 2 moments that made me feel proud of my citizenship. One was Bhupen Hazarika, i had ulterior motives for it for I am a Hazarika and it does not harm to your ego to share the surname with the most famous person born in your homestate.Second was Abhinav Bindra. I would only use one line to lament the lack of Sachin,Rathore,Malleshwari,Murthy,Kalam,Rajni,Chiranjeevi and IITs,IIMs and the overdose of bollywood for it deserves no second line.

To sum up I will quote one of my juniors “missing Rakhi Sawant”, well I say i missed her only in physical representation in video, to me the entire video smacked of the essence, that have become a part of the antiques we associate with her.

When one word speaks a thousand words

As a matter of lack of choice, or rather as a result of murder of choice, not a day passes by in my life when I don’t come across some arrangement of Roman alphabets that always makes sense to my literate mind.But there are some words that are forever condemned to have their existence intertwined with our distant or not so distant past.When I come across those words, a divine orchestra of words fill my day dreaming mind.

One such word that comes to my mind is “melancholy”. If I had ever done grave injustice that sprang to my mind. The first line of this para would definitely find its place as a stinking specimen.  For an inaudible whisper of the word “melancholy” flooded my mind with memories that I had to let it out in this blog. In my not so distant past, I had to study a subject called alternative English. In my school days, it was a subject that definitely compete in the race to be my favourite. You hardly got marks. There was no such thing as right answer or wrong answer. It all depended on how much your teacher liked your answer. But it sure had some of the finest specimens of English literature still not lost in the pages of history.

Wordsworth, I really hope I am not messing up with the name of the great nature poet for I have resolved not to look up the literary piece that forms an integral part of this post. This is done with a misplaced sense of self-righteousness that I can do justice to my memories only if my entire post is untainted with anything but my memories. “Misplaced sense of self righteousness”- rings any bell. In my mind, I hear an explosion of bell metal that numbs my sense of hearing. These words always teleports me to the seats of inox kolktata, and I see joker mouthing these words to batman. Dark knight is a part of my recent memory and weeds have not yet attacked this castle. So, I shall try to quickly pass through my neighbourhood and zoom to my past.

About Wordsworth , he had written a poem called solitary reaper. I really don’t recollect all the words of the poem but a few words have stood the test of time.This was the poem that told me of the existence of the word “lass”. I first heard someone using the word “melancholy notes”. I found myself wandering across the world trying to help Wordsworth decipher what the beautiful lass was trying to sing in a language that he did not understand but in a voice that touched his heart.But therein lies an allegory of my life, whenever I hear the word “melancholy”, a smile spreads on my lips, I race to my school days, and I fail to sympathize with anything and everything sad about the collection of words that needs the word melancholy to describe itself.

Comedy in crisis

All good things in life must end. As one of the friend says even love comes with expiry date. But again too much of everything is bad. So, also my stay in kgp, although was a wonderful journey, the thought that some-other journey was awaiting was a not so frightening thought. I enjoyed every second of my stay in kgp. But there are some moments that forever brings out a smile and even fewer moments that make you want to scream in disbelief.

By your buddha year any dual degree students know what he wants to do with his last year in kgp. I wanted a year with minimal academic interference. The first step in this direction is to take courses whose syllabus is less. In this pursuit, i took information theory and coding, for non electronic students, the subject name and matter is of little significance. We duals were only 17 and my wing-man in more ways than one -Lodu- did not take this course. So, I find myself as one of the only 2 duals in this class. The other dual was Kishore the only dehli(for non kgpians, a dehli is a 10 pointer), so as a sincere six point someone, i felt it was the moral responsibility of my high cg friend to tell me of all tests etc. I have omitted assignments for assignments were beneath the dignity of fifth years.

Five years in kgp creates a lot of bad habits, we are really dependent on net. If possible, we would even have our food through computer.So, both of us choose to ignore the analog exam time-table put up on our class room. We were by now used to deciphering the central time-table, finding out the subjects that were taught in same slot. It was a complex process but it could be done online so our spinal cords made us prefer it over anything else. But in fifth year some exams diverge from central time-table. This exam of ours was preponed to forenoon from after noon.

My wing man Lodu had another subject in the same slot. That subject too was pre-poned for all departmental exams of that slot were preponed. Usually, I go to Lodu’s room a few hours before exam to know the syllabus and he tells me what to study to pass.This time the syllabus was too short and he had different subject so this routine was dropped. Kishore had told me the exam was on after noon. So after waking up at 5 am and completing my morning run, I went to partake in a siesta.At around 11 am Kishore called me to confirm the exam time. By the way 11 am was the time exam ended for mid sems, I told him it is scheduled for afternoon for he had himself told me so.

While I was having sweet dreams, Lodus exam was being held in two rooms, he was surprised not to see me. But he thought against calling me for he supposed I was in the other room. Sometimes, the world really conspires against you. Anyways, blissfully ignorant that the exam is already over, I went to exam center at 2 and found to my horror that the exam is over. Initially, I was mortified but then I confirmed that Kishore too had missed it. In my mind I was laughing hysterically. I had the dehli power with me. Aggressive diplomacy and absence of our normal faculty adviser and a great Professor meant we had a re-exam.But the entire exercise was really hilarious. Probably the most hilarious experience of my life.

Today and even then I laughed at the matter but my stay in KGP would have been extended by a year had it not been for this re-exam. That is ok but the stay of only Dehli would have been extended.

What is bad music

I live  in the electronic age, if there was any statement that could stake claim to the Nobel for “stating the obvious”, the opening line of this post would surely make the cut for the shortlist. Having logically argued that the information contained in my opening sequence has 0 bit(not the glamorous bits and bytes but the less famous cousin from information theory) of information, I now shall attempt to straitjacket my digressions from the topic of the post. In the age of iPods and its less successful imitators,   hardly a day goes by when our drums are left parched by the torrential downpour of what makes or has made to popular music charts of the world.Besides any random rendezvous with contemporary literature re-acquaints us with phrases like “face the music”-“music to the ears”. Two phrases that are as far poles apart as literally possible in the sphere  of human interpretation

As with any great specimen of art or human creativity, we all make attempts at being politically correct and at some point of life find ourselves saying you can’t compare A and B, it is like being asked to differentiate between your own children. Having partaken in these diplomatic utterance drenched in the stench of cowardice, we all have our own favourites and the not so favourites. Some wise man once said that we are all hypocritical at some point or the other, I also subscribe to this larger brotherhood of sinners. I shall make no attempt to tell what my favourites are nor will i waste any electricity communicating to you what are my less favourite numbers.I nevertheless shall try to hypocritically try to find a common thread to all that is bad music in my ears.

In my short-life, I have come across people with varying musical tastes,some like Bollywood, some classical, some rock, some pop and others metal or “melodious death metal” as some people refer to it. I find myself navigating across almost genres without prejudice or malice towards any.However I find myself unable to sway my head or foot to cheap imitations or the din called death metal and most forms of rap. But there are people who do like them, hence I find myself reflecting whether there is something wrong with me or is it that there is no universal bad music or good music. Like beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, music might  be a feeling that resides only in our ears. For some, even the irritating sound of broken horn could be  source of melody. But as soon as I start to believe this train of thought,  some observations of my life derails my thought process . There are exceptions to everything and there is a reason for existence of the word “exception” in English dictionary, we need a word to describe events that rarely come to pass in the world of our dreams or the world where dreams get created.

This conflict of reasoning ignites in me the hypocrite in me who was simply biding its time, it offers me the easy way out listening to the dictates of the mob and consign my opinions to the billboards. It is then that Pritam comes to my mind. Music sales and theft figures extol the greatness of his scores. But the Indian in me gets  disgraced when I find that he has shamelessly lifted his tunes and does not even give credit to his rightful masters. At moments like this, my conscience wakes up and asks me to free myself from the shackles of hypocrisy and declare that any music I don’t like is bad music.A thinking mind is really nothing but evil, just when I had made peace with many of my conflicting heads, it talks about the songs I have started to detest just because I  had  to listen to them in infinite loop because some of your friends really liked the piece and wanted to announce to the world that.

Having debated over it again and again, I  draw a conclusion that appeals to all warring factions of my conscious mind “A bad music is one that is either rap,shameless cheat,death metal or something I had to listen without my consent”

A scream across the skies

scream across the skies

Our hearts beat for the one we love said an ancient sage
Nay said the rational sage
It beats to keep us alive
I ask the sages of all ages
How do you live without the one you love.

Where is the beauty promised by beauty
When I long to see only your eyes
What is the joy in all I do
when I long only to see you smile.

How do I lift the veil of mist
To see me in your midst
How do I make you see
All that is me
Is only a prayer to you.

Sugar free stuff and diabetics

sugar free

sweet poison

Having waded through political waters for my first post of the decade, my wandering gypsy mind think its time to write about my experiments with food recommended and forbidden for diabetics.  For those of who don’t know who I am or have turned a blind eye to the  persistently highlighted link on this blog entitled “Who am I”, I am no doctor so wont assault your eyes with jargon or some futuristic script that can’t be understood by most of humanity. I am a type 2 diabetic. The findings in this post is literally the digital representation of my blood on your screen. Whenever I have something suspicious, I usually check my blood sugar before and after having the forbidden apple from the garden of Eden. For those of you who are thinking about applauding my heroic sacrifice of blood, this spot smacks of greed. My long-term plan in life is to publish my findings and earn money :D. Not many people are non-insulin dependent diabetic right from the threshold of adulthood.  So, I definitely will win hands down in the quanta of experimental data.

Like all of my digital tidings, this post too owes one chromosome to a trigger.Recently I cam across some sweets packaged as “diabetic dezires“. Some words are really catchy. For a guy who had sent bundles of nerves of his sweet tooth such promises wake up the polar bears of your nerves to the arctic summer.I gave in and spent some of my hard-earned modern equivalent of ancient salt on it. Usually most of the food that proclaims itself to be for diabetics have their nutritional content published on their package. It’s a common misconception for a blood sugar patient, sweet is the bete noir. The enemy in your food is the calories,fat and the form in which you get the calories. For persons with semi-functional pancreas like mine, fats can be more harmful than sugar.

This company claims to be made for diabetics but the day before i had it my sugar was hovering around 90-110. Although I followed the same routine the next day, my sugar was hovering in 150-160 stuff. Don’t have it.In case you want to indulge in sweet tooth as a diabetic, please buy stuff only if you know the ingredients with calorie content. As for some rule of thumb you can’t usually heat sugar-free stuff, it no longer remain as sweet. I don’t know why but again these are my experimental findings. It is for this reason that you are recommended to add sugar-free pellets before consumption 😀

demos cratos

the future kingAs a matter of lack of choice, if you are born in a middle class family in India, you know what those two words mean. Just after the ABCs have been mastered, “i” s have been dotted and “t”s have been crossed, we are told about the country we live in. The first page of many a books tell us about Gandhijis dilemma solver -“think about the poorest person you know”. Although, the text in the book seems to have a few strands of papyrus baptized by the church of Goebbels, the subject of social studies was one of my favorite.

Having established the origins of my thought, I come to the thoughts that have instigated this blog.For starters I don’t have a single click on my blog today. It is pathetic to say the least. The other was the image of Shibu Soren taking the oath of chief minister as CM supported by BJP a party I once admired. As I struggle to grasp with the violation of ethics and justice in Indian democracy, my mind wanders back to the first debate that I saw in my school. The word saw might be drenched in incongruity for I had a minuscule part in the same. Although being apart of the junior most batch of School I asked a question that more ruffled the free-flowing eloquence of the debaters. The topic for the day was “In a democracy you get a government that people deserve”.My question was did people India deserve emergency when she voted Indira Gandhi to power on the plan of “garibi hatao”.

The earliest election I can recall being played out in the media was the 1996 election. After election, we saw the largest pre-election formation sit in the opposition.The smallest pre-election formation run the government and the second largest party support he smallest pre-election formation.But the conduct of Vajpayee won my heart and mind. Although I could not vote in the next election, I cheered for every seat won by BJP. I really wanted to have a prime minister I admire. Same was the case for next election. Unlike most politicians power did not make Vajpayee a hated figure like all CMs and former PMs.Godhra happened, I hate people being prosecuted for religion or any other thing that makes India a diverse country but India was progressing at least it appeared to. I found myself rooting for BJP in 2k4 I did not want Sonia Gandhi to be PM, the concept of hereditary rule still do not strike a chord in me. Nevertheless Manmohan Singh took oath as Pm with some of the most corrupt politicians in his ministry ala Laloo, Shibu and who not. But the march of India was unstoppable. Vajpayee retired from BJP and it seemed BJP had gone mad.

A political party that once stood for everything good about India seemed to be bereft of ideas. I found myself rooting for congress in 2k9 elections. Congress did win but I am sad for if tomorrow I want congress to lose whom do i root for. How can I support a party that makes murderers as chief ministers. IT seems India cannot be great country. Power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. I hope the government gets corrupt absolutely and we get a credible opposition for if that does not happen soon. We will need to wait another 50 years for a credible opposition. We need answers for the death of Karkares. We need a voice in parliament who don’t just cry for his own fiefdom to indulge in more corruption but who speaks against extra constitutional powers like armed Forces Special powers Act. The government exists to protect the citizens what is the lace of a law that is created to harass,rape,maim,kill citizens by official machinery.