Random snippets from my mind

In our life, we meet many people, make many decisions that change the way we look at life… some people just touch the surface of us while some others touch the soul and more. Probably these people become more than just friends, probably they become best friends… you never know when you meet them. It  wouldn't  be wrong to call them your life partner, because no matter what, no matter who comes or goes in your life, they just remain constant in your life, like solid pillars, being the ultimate source of strength till they break down themselves. But over time expectations begin, and when the other person can’t meet up to those expectations, that are when things go wrong. The more you love someone, the more they tend to offend you – that’s the rule I guess. And then there comes a time when you’ve had enough with the offenses and you need a break desperately. Then there comes the long interval that you wanted so much. It’s also a time of introspection, but the outcome’s never positi

It was the return of the prodigal daughter in my case, when I returned to my dance school after a five year long hiatus. I started learning dance since childhood, but somewhere along, I gave it up. As if to assist my decision, my studies came along the way and my priorities changed. It wasn't that I shunned myself completely from it; I became a “bathroom dancer”, practicing the tatkaars in the privacy of my bathroom! But I never resumed my training again properly. A few weeks earlier, my sister informed me that there would be a workshop in my dance school and they called me to participate in it. I was obviously reluctant in the beginning – joining it would only demoralize me further to the point of not dancing at all. But after a lot of persuasion from my mom and my sister, I joined. The workshop was a four day programme, and the guest teacher was Mahua Shankar, a famous Kathak dance exponent and a disciple of Pt. Birju Maharaj. In a last moment attempt to redeem myself, I just

Maharashtra came to a standstill as their “Tiger” Balasaheb Thackeray deceased on Saturday at 03:30 pm. Witnessed as one of the greats in Indian politics, this 86 year old cartoonist and writer was solely responsible for bringing about a change in the political scenario of his state, Maharashtra. But it seems the rule of the jungle is still existent and that too in one of the most developed cities of the country – Mumbai. The king of the jungle is dead but his iron fist rule is still applicable. What I am implying to is the arrest of two girls in Mumbai when they objected to the bandh on the event of Bal Thackeray’s death. A 21 year old girl wrote in her facebook profile that people like Thackeray die almost every day and there is no need to make such a fuss out of it. Can someone please enlighten me whatever was wrong with her words? A great politician died. Okay fine. So what?! Okay I accept that he single handedly changed the entire political scenario of Maharashtra and was t

Diwali has always been known as the festival of lights. Its really a spectacle to see all the houses in the neighborhood decorated with various lights, each glimmering in their own accord. Traditionally, diya should be burnt, though nowadays, very few take the pains to do so. The subtle glow of the diya s add charm to this festival. But I don’t think this festival should only be associated to lights. Diwali should also be known as the festival of Sounds. Kali Puja, which is celebrated during Diwali, is followed in Assam with great pomp and splendor. My locality happens to be one of the famous places in town renowned for its Kali Pujas. So there is an entire volley of sounds surrounding me during these two days of festivities. While the sounds of the fireworks and the loudspeakers of the puja pandals compete for being the loudest, there are the others heard on a daily basis – the vehicles on the main road, the whistling train, babies howling, mom scolding… the list is just end

The past month has flown by in a whirlwind of activities. No sooner did October arrive, I escaped from Dibrugarh to attend a camp in Ranchi (NCC cadet remember?!!) I went there, stayed there for half a month and returned back just the day before Maha Shashti (18 th October)… only to fall sick! It was as if my body’s immune system had given up a long fight by the end of these 15 days and has finally shouted, “I’ve had enough!” The past 15 days, I had been deprived of fish – a legally punishable offence of culinary depravity, especially if the offended is a Bong! I had full well planned to avenge this act of depravity by consuming fish to the fullest. But my failing immune system had taken all my plans of being the ultimate consumer along with it down the drains! But still, I managed to have one fried fish despite being sick to the bone! I recovered back thankfully, before the actual puja began. (I guess it was the fervor attached to this festive mood that helped me recuperate) By

15 th august would be just another normal day for me. I would either end up slouching the whole day doing nothing or my day would be wasted before the TV watching the live broadcast of the Independence Day program from Delhi. But of late, I’d become such a lazy ass, I wouldn’t even bother taking the pain to wake up at 6 in the morning and watch the Independence Day proceedings. Just another irresponsible Indian in the making! Just a year back, my college notice boards advertised new enrollments for NCC (National Cadet Corps).   Day 1: the NCC notice didn’t even catch my eye. Day 2: a totally uninterested eyeing through the notice. “Students who are interested to join NCC are requested to contact the college senior for enrollment forms. Last date for entries…” and the notice went on. The first thought that came to my mind was This is so not for me . Imagine a lazy bum like me who knows nothing beyond books and who has never participated in any form of physical training, joining