A Burning Desire

(I was going to Kalyani by the 10:45 p.m. train. I was the only one in my compartment. Due to some technical problems, the lights were out.)

Fluttering in the wind like a nightingale,
Black hair covering the face,
Sweet sound of the hand full of bangles-
I was really in some burning craze!
Slowly, she came over & sat beside me;
Her rapid breathing warming the chill cold air
I saw her- she was so gorgeous to see:
My heart told me that I was having an affair!
Sparkling blue eyes with pale red lips,
Shining white teeth like some flower at bloom,
Her cold hand touched me, gave me the creeps
But, I was destined to become her groom.
She began to sing a melodious tone
I was really falling into a dream;
I knew her- was she my own?
All around darkness with a little yellow beam.
And I kept my head on her lap & slept
For hours which seemed endless nights,
But, then the lights came & clearly swept-
She just vanished out of sight!
And now, when I think of her,
My soul believes she was playing a game,
And as if she wants to whisper:

My burning desire- what is her name?

Death-The Gift Of God

Oh lovely people, why are you afraid to die?
After your owns are gone, why do relentlessly cry?
For to you, it is the end of days
So, you don’t want to have any parting ways.
You pray to God to save their lives-
So that, they may be able to continue the strife.
You think of death as a shadow of dark
Which, if affects anyone, will leave no mark!
But, think of those men who sacrificed their soul,
Defeating death, to achieve their goal,
They showed us the light, to follow their road,
They taught us to live, to fight with our sword.
They told us to be brave, to have faith in the Lord-
After all, death is only “A Gift Of God!”

I Had A Dream......

From my early childhood, I had many dreams & I wanted all of them to come true. I dreamt that I was a Cardiologist with surplus money to last me through the entire lifetime. I should have a decorated lovely apartment in Bradenton, Florida with 2 luxury cars- one, a sports car & the other, a saloon car, a sedan or coupe. A loving darling of a wife, 2 kids, my parents would fill up my near-to-perfect life. Famous, as I naturally would be, people should gape at me whenever I pass them or appear in interviews or product-promotions. But, I didn’t intend to headline the covers of all magazines or newspapers, because in a way, I fear publicity & celebrity status.
I was very open to the idea of having kids, in this era of hush-hush life, speeding like nuclear machines through the days & nights, no time to enjoy a couple of weeks in Hawaii or Paris or Amsterdam. But, that didn’t mean I would indulge in sexual acts with any girl until I was happily married. Actually, I was a little shy from pre-marriage physical relationships. It always, according to me, upsets your morals, you don’t know for certain she would be your life partner, & so in a way, you’re cheating on her. Needles to say, I had crushes on many a girl, including celebrities like Tennis icon Russian bombshell Maria Sharapova, who lived in my neighborhood & Emma Watson, the witty Harry Potter heroine.
Standing at 1.83 meters & weighing 79 Kgs, I was compared to a midget, in front of those tall hunky Americans who grow up like grapevines.

I, an Indian, was born in Marion, Ohio, a small town 50 kilometers from the capital city of Columbus. My father was the GM of a multi-national company, my mother, a housewife. When I was 6, we’d to shift to Rochester, New York & then at 12, we finally settled in Bradenton, the exquisitely embellished town in Florida. I was sent to a boarding school, not much to my liking, & people seldom used to talk to me because of my oppressive nature. Away from home, I felt like a freak amidst these morons. That changed, once I came across Maria Sharapova, who unlike today was a little girl, timid & afraid, concealing herself in the superlative beauty radiating from her body. It was love at first sight. Whenever, I returned home on vacation, most of time was dedicated to her. She, a Russian, couldn’t speak English very well, so; instead I’d to learn the Russian language to impress upon her. My mind would toil for hours striving to grasp the basics of the language, but my intense concentration & zeal paid off splendid results. I would stare at her, a lasting look that foretold the immense feelings I’d for her. When, at 15, I proposed, she turned me down immediately, so, I threatened to commit suicide. The result, a criminal record against me. Then, after that, it was a topsy-turvy roller coaster ride, & I never got to take her in my arms.
***********************************


Now, at 41, the old memories inundate back to my battered mind. Though I accomplished my task & aim to be a Cardiologist by graduating from Harvard Medical College in Cambridge, Massachusetts & then post-graduating from Columbia University, I’ve literally forgotten the meaning of a happy life.
Married to Anjali, the only daughter of an NRI for the past 15 years, my body has been reduced to a hapless bloodied mess. Screams & yells are a part of her nature, & she can’t stay without them, the object of victimization being her husband. Fatigued from my day’s work, when I return to my lair to obtain some rest, hell sets in.
“Why have you kept your shoes there on the right-side corner?” “Did you bring me a nice expensive diamond ring for Valentine’s day?” “When will you take me out to the Bistriz?” Man, her whole list of interrogation seems unending. And each time, I do something right, she accuses me of the wrongs connected to it.
I owned three cars, a BMW, a Jaguar, & a Mercedes. Though I drive myself; for my sons, & my pesky wife, I was forced to appoint a chauffeur. It seems “The Ghost Of Nightmares” haunts me. The other day, I was threatened to have my car thrashed, if I fail to save a dying patient, who had less than 0.1% chance of surviving. He had cardiovascular melanoma, a cerebral haemorhhage & a renal failure.
“How can I save him?” I protested, “I can only prolong his agony by putting him under life-supporting system.”
They wouldn’t let me do that, so he died & now I have my Mercedes mutilated beyond recognition. A case in court.

Now, I come to my sons. I am worried to death about them. Raj & Raman. 14 & 12. Both of them are disobedient & unforgiving. If I scold them, as I definitely should, they take vengeance.
Raj was charged of, oh my god, of raping a classmate, because she refused to be his date, & has been detained under custody & would not be granted bail so easily for he is a non-American. Another case in court.
As for Raman, he is as vindictive as his elder brother.
Last Thursday, I received a call in my cell to cough up $250,000 as ransom for his release. I was devastated. Not because of the money, but, thinking of his safety like an ideal father. I paid the money clandestinely as was advised & brought him back. Anjali didn’t think I had to worry so much for a mere thing like that. That Sunday, when Raman was out, a SMS came in his cell asking him to take his share of $50,000 of his father’s money. Imagine, a 12-year-old boy framing his own kidnapping! When I confronted him, he narrated the whole planning, stating that he had to do it because I wouldn’t increase his weekly allowance to $1,000 form $250.
My wife, somehow, found out that I had a crush on Maria Sharapova & exaggerated the fact to a point of intolerance.
“I’m so loyal to you. How could you ever think of doing this to me?” she bellowed.
I tried to explain, it was a pre-marital affair, but it proved a futile attempt. The next day, I discovered her boyfriend, she kissing him passionately in public.
I filed for a divorce. But, she demanded $1 million & our two sons, a car, & 50% of our house, plus monthly payment of $25,000 to her bank account!
I have also been asked to resign from my post as senior Cardiologist by the Hospital Authorities for my recent bad publicity.

So, here I am now, looking 70, worn down by the constant nagging questions of journalists & exhausted of seeing the newspapers writing juicy shocking articles about my personal life.

I also heard that Maria Sharapova has married her fellow tennis star Marat Safin, & has moved to Sochi, a resort town in the Black Sea region of Russia.

I pray to go to Heaven, to stop this tyranny, but I think the Lord has also conspired against me to punish me in Heaven.
Who says, “Life is a gift of God?”
To me, “LIFE IS A HELLISH EXPERIENCE WITH MENTAL & PHYSICAL
TRAUMA.”

A Patchwork Quilt

Made up of memories of you
Bound together with love
Sewn with your selfless giving
Threads made of grace
Lined with thoughts of you.

Squares made of days gone by
Days we spent together
Each with a new design
Of the things that we shared.

Blanket stitches of our hearts
Mingle the squares in rows
Nothing can tear it apart
Not fire or flood or anything close.

It’s kept in a place of my keeping
The treasure chest of my heart
Wrapped in tissue of forgiveness
And tied with ribbons of love.

The colors all speak of you
Pinks and Blues and other hues
Sewn tight and fastened together
With hope and faith and truth.
------------------------------------>Chery Brand

When You Are An Angel

(Dedicated to the girl with whom I fell in love at first sight. She, I think, never realized my true feelings for her, so, on I carry with this lifelong struggle in search of the soul mate, though I know in the bottom of my heart, that she, and no other, is the one for me.)

The day you walked into my life,
With the air of a depressed one,
Bespectacled, hair kissing the face
I couldn’t resist, but, dear lady, to love you.
It seems hazy the extent of my excruciating strife;
To let your admirer run down-
This I promise, I won’t ever give up the chase
Even if the grisly darkness conceals the truth!

Loitering in the door of your heart-
Like a nomad amidst the great sands;
Trying to seize that little gleam of light,
That has kept me from extirpating my soul!
Imagining that you two will never part
Never be able to leave his hands
Oh, lovely angel, please stop these chagrined nights,
So that I can achieve my ultimate goal!

Efforts go wasted to impress your mind,
My maiden never takes to the inward eye,
Friends advise me to resign in the war-
And look for someone who realizes my love.
A cloud of awe encircles your enigmatic kind-
As I unravel the mystery with a tragic sigh;
Looks like the door of horizon is still kept ajar:
But, the path leading to it has been disturbed!

Chaffing me with all their wits,
Failing to understand my delicate interiors,
Friends of mine are none that I need,
Only you will give me a complete cure.
Clasping both hands in powerful fists,
Sacrificing everything to the Divine Superior,
Torturing the veins in order to bleed-
Only to prove that my love is pure!

Forever the days go on like an eternal stream;
The eyes watch someone rejoicing this unfortunate’s place;
Slowly, it seems, you’re drifting away from my shadow
Belated sorrows endeavoring to keep at far the pain,
The desire to hold you in my arms, will remain carved in a dream-
With no one to rectify my hapless bloodied mess,
And as I see the swift closing of your window,
The last ounce of breath vaporises in the rain!

Anuranan: Review

Hmm, after much "yes" & "no", much hype, much speculation, I finally got to watch this movie, on the sole request & pressure of my good friend Rituparna (not the actress in this movie, mind it).

First time, being a critic, so, please don't be too harsh on my judgments, though I'll hardly stress on the inner aspects of the movie.

The 1st part, based on London, UK, portrays Rahul Bose & Rituparna Sengupta to be a happily married couple, childless, as Rituparna has had a miss-carriage, and, can't enjoy motherhood biologically, but, the reason is vague, nevertheless, doesn't draw too much attention to it. Rahul gets a promotion & transferred Kolkata, where, he'll supervise a construction project on the behalf of the company.

Part 2: Kolkata.....

Now, comes, the real part, as we are shown that Rahul & Rituparna get to know another couple, played by Rajat Kapur & his wife, Raima Sen, Rajat already being familiar to the former couple, as they'd previously met in London.

Circumstances lead to us getting the picture as the 2 families becoming close. Then, one day, Mr.Rahul Chatterjee has to go to Bagdogra. While Rajat is away, Raima, in a mood to overcome the melancholy, reaches Bagdogra herself without the knowledge of her husband.

She & Rahul stay in the same hotel (or whatever it is), not, in the same room, of course (Bengali movies are too predictable on that area), anyways, next day, Raima finds Rahul dead & the whole blame falls on her, she falls victim to misjudgments (which is quite natural) & people treating her as if she's a well, not, a prostritute, but, something close to that. Her husband shuns her too, she tries to commit suicide by slashing her wrists, fails miserably, lands up in a hospital, but, Rituparna forgives her, as she is the only person who could truly understand her inner soul, unlike the others.


Part 3: Mwahaha, this is the best part (that's entirely to me):

Screenplay, at times, is horribly bad, songs aren't too touching, completely at a loss to magnify the intensity.

I may be deaf...but, there's a scene in which the word spoken is "ashoon ashoon", I heard, well, forget it. Lol.....

I thought Rituparna's voice sounded a little too squeaky at times, just like a bird chirping, thank God, I don't have to face her in real life, otherwise, there would have serious problems with my tympanic membrane (its a hearing apparatus in our ears for all you non-biology readers).

Every character in this movie uses a Motorola mobile (may be, Motorola's sells have plunged down, so, this is their new strategy, don't know for sure, have to investigate into the matter), also, same is for Reebok, I think Rahul & Rajat have been made the brand ambassadors (kindly check in http://www.google.com/).

Oh....did I forget this? How the hell could I?? Damn me!!

The very last scene, imagine this, Rahul Bose meditating on the top of some goddmaned mountain.
My interpretation (surely, you can't deny this): He fooled everyone by framing his own death, I think, lost interest in his wife, so, decided to shift base into the Himalayas & become a sage.
An enitirely new concept for people who wanna avoid the hassles of divorce. (Lmao).

So, my advice, to all those facing marital problems (without the slightest ray of light of that being mended), try it out, but, you can choose some other place, because, otherwise, there would be too many "false" sages in the Himalayas..hahahaha.


Anyways, I'd an absoultely blasting & rocking time with Rituparna & Rupsha (at one point of time, Ritu was so frustrated & angry with my continuous jokes & "live commentaries", as I like to call them, she was threatening to throw me out of the hall by "reporting abuse", obviously which means she's been doing a lot of Orkut recently).

It was the 1st Bengali movie I watched after more than a decade, I liked it, would give it a umm....6 out of 10.




Sam....

Ragging, A Form of Entertainment...But, Is It??

We all get goosebumps on our first day to college. Not only because it is a completely different environment, but, also the question of ragging looms on our minds. Ragging-the term has 2 variable meanings, one, it seems to be a kind of fun, entertainment to the seniors, & two, it is embarrasment & misery for the freshers.

Ragging has been expanded to mean different forms. Simple forms are ok with most of the new comers, which include giving your introduction in front of the seniors in a particular format or doing many funny things like standing on a foot & dance, imitate someone very rudely, propose to a girl in front of everyone, answering non-sense, but, nevertheless, intellectual questions etc.
Harmful forms are the most dangerous. They often go hand-in-hand with torturing the juniors. For instance, someone would be asked to go naked in the public & run around the whole college campus with suppose a banner saying, "Hey, look everyone, I'm naked. Isn't it lovely?" This causes laughter among the "bosses" who are forcing the poor students to do these things, never ever realising how much they are embarrassing & hurting them. In some colleges, especially where they provide hostels, ragging takes a new form, beating up the students like you beat a thief, no one knows why, but, the tradition goes on. Beating often comprises of hitting with iron rods also, in many cases, severe injuries have been caused. Sometimes, also, meritorious students are forced to take drugs & this ruin their life.

People who are against ragging are often punished by the seniors, that is 3rd or 4th years. Some days ago, a professor was murdered for this same purpose, because he opposed to the idea of ragging. Deaths also occur, for example, a student was thrown off the roof for not obeying the orders. Suicide cases are innumerable, where new-comers who are very sensitive & not too tough interirly, can't bear the pain & decide to end their lives.

Now, I'm not against ragging, which as I suggested, if done in the harmless format, is alright, what I'm against is the barbarism invilved with it, where the freshers are treated like wild animals. So, isn't it time for all of us to voice our protest, because, who knows, some day, our children might also become victims of this cruel practice.

When You Feel That Life Can Offer You No More.....

Every person has a bad patch in his life, when he is at his lowest. But, he has to overcome it & be happy. People around him have to convince him that there's a lot to live, a lot to see, for life's too short to enjoy all the wonders of the world. Only that can boost his confidence. After he has gone through that kind of phase, again the sun shines on him & he'll be happy.

Its precisely that kind of a day I'm having, from the time I woke up, I am feeling pretty low. Its as if, someone inside me is telling me, pleading me to stop this all & end my life. No one is there to console me, no one is there to help me out, no one is there to give me love & say, "darling I care for you." I can't take it anymore, after all, another year, another 365 days, it seems a lot to me, I have lost the purpose of living, what for am I living in this world? Do I have something to contribute, maybe no, thats why God is asking me to come to him. Nothing is alright now, I see everyday rejoicing, everybody having a blast, but, I can't feel the vibration, I can't feel the energy, it must be true, I have nothing to give, so the best way is to die, die a lonely death with no one by my side. Death seems to be the only solution to my problems.

I don't know if I'm ever going to get out of this phase, if I'll ever be able to resume my normal life again, or maybe, this is the very last article I'm writing, after that, darkness will engulf me like a blanket...if only I knew, but, no, I don't, only time can tell......

Memories

Listening to the song "Beete Lamhein" from the movie "Train", nice song, infact, a fantastic romantic sad song which has really touched my heart. This is the first time I'm listening to this song intently, with a free mind, on the previous occassions, I'd only listened to it for the sake of keeping myself occupied with something.

As I sit in front of my pc & hear the words, each word seems to register a tone in my mind, it delves back to some past memories, something I'm quite familiar with. I can't help but stop the tears that form in the corner of my eyes, on the other hand, the song seems to be so soothing to the soul that I can't turn it off also.

Finally, I'm flooded with tears, may be that was the best way to express myself at this point. No one is hear to console me. Kay Kay's melodies are like nails stabbing my heart, as I recall the days I spent with her, those school days, those days which I'll carry on with me till the day I perish, those days that changed me....that taught me how to love, how to care for someone.
But, I wasn't destined to her love, I wasn't entitled to "be loved" in return.

So, I conclude with:

Aaj bhi jab woh pal mujhko yaad aate hai......


Aankho mein aansoon apne aap aa jaate hai (My addition)