Random snippets from my mind

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

Once upon a time, when I was a Science student, cramming up was all I knew! Those theories and concepts never exactly went inside my head, and I was left with the last option of cramming up everything and vomiting it on the answer script! My affinities lay towards Humanities and shifting to Humanities was always a back up option. So in the end, when my mind shifted track from being a doctor to a student of Humanities, this was a nightmare come true for everyone else. But I had it all fixed in my mind. I was going to apply for a major in English in some good college and study the subject I loved the most. So now, I am an English graduate student, doing my graduation from a not-so-good college, but which guarantees me a recognized degree! And studying English isn't exactly a cakewalk as I thought! The English I did in my Higher Secondary and that, which I am doing now, has a vast difference. But now that things have become easier, I have completely forgotten how to study. I hardly s

Recently I came across an article written by a scholar on his concerns on the deterioration of literature among the Indian students and teachers. He being a scholar in the field of literature and language found it extremely disappointing to come across the fact that more and more teachers are unaware of the Indian authors in the modern day English literature. The article obviously got me hooked from the go and it provided a very deep insight on the condition of literature in our country. If asked my personal opinion, I would rather not raise a finger on the teachers because till now, whoever teachers I've come across, were quite well read in literature and their knowledge were not just encompassed within the boundaries of a textbook but way beyond it. The students, on the other hand, do need to bear with my criticism! Reading a book, for them, was always their textbook and the favorite excuse that I've received from them was "I don't get enough time to finish my textbo

After many years, I've finally started a blog. My 1 st post got 38 views, although there weren't any comments. L But on the bright side, it feels good to write something and share it. I'm going to have to publicize about it in facebook to attract more readers. And I have to update more posts. Being new to this blog thing, I have no idea how to proceed with the settings. So I'm just content with posting new blogs. Its always been my dream to write. Ever since I laid my hands on a book as a kid, I wanted to write. Over the years, the subject matter of my story changed. Being heavily influenced by Enid Blyton, I was all set to write a mystery tale. Even the names of the characters sounded similar to those in Blyton's Famous Five and Secret Seven. But I lost interest in it. I wrote some three to four chapters but my story led to nowhere. But this thing to publish my own book has always been in my head. Then came a book called Harry Potter. The book entertains an equal

We're three siblings and I was never exactly the lonely kid at home. Yet, I had various imaginary friends who were always with me. I never had one friend, but a group of them and all of them were girls. I never called them by names, I just used to call them and they would listen to me and would agree with me. I used to talk to them, or rather me, in public. This led to endless taunts from everyone, starting from my parents to my siblings. I used to get upset whenever anyone said anything to me, because to my innocent mind, they did exist, and any jibe to me meant that they were insulting them, which was intolerable to me. I used to talk to my friends about it, and they would just listen to me and say exactly the things I wanted them to say. I think having imaginary friends have helped me to a great extent. I was the brilliant one among the three of us. So my studies were never checked by my mom. At times like this, my imaginary friends helped me a lot. They would always come to

the present trend of a blog culture has caused quite a ripple in my family. even my 83 yearold gran mom is enthralled by the prospects of blogging (courtesy my over enthusiastic pishi who's an avid blogger). so after much encouragement, i too have decided to be a part of the big "blogger" community. i actually have no idea what to blog about, so i decide to take a safe route and blog one of my poems for beginners. this poem reflects the kind of person that i am, and more on my temperaments. Nameless Nameless is without identity, Nameless is anonymity. Nameless is an unspoken rift, Nameless is the direction of a drift. Nameless is a smile in pain, Nameless is a glare in disdain. Nameless is love and faith, Nameless is betrayal and hate. Nameless is a rule without authority, Nameless is my entirety, my identity.