Friday, December 29, 2006

denial

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things
To yield with a grace to reason
And bow and accept at the end
Of a love or a season

~ Rober Frost

rubber ducky

almost there says:
rubber ducky shorao (get rid off the rubber ducky from msn dp)
pig in the big city says:
haha…why?
pig in the big city says:
kharap ta ki? (whats so bad about it?)
almost there says:
helpless
pig in the big city says:
so it is!
pig in the big city says:
but looks happy all the same
almost there says:
not really
almost there says:
got that sadness that comes with that pouted painted red smile
pig in the big city says:
ah! the red lips of a clown
almost there says:
yep
pig in the big city says:
who says the smile isnt real though?
pig in the big city says:
may be not as real for the ducky
pig in the big city says:
but the world will probably smile with it
pig in the big city says:
thats real enough
almost there says:
at its cost
pig in the big city says:
forget the price tags for a while. will u?
almost there says:
the world will smile at its cost...
almost there says:
charlie chaplin was the saddest most misunderstood and helpless person ever
pig in the big city says:
but made great movies
almost there says:
so was most comics
almost there says:
the world smiled at them..the wrold aint such a good thing
pig in the big city says:
but it still means the 'world' to us
almost there says:
lol

Thursday, December 14, 2006

just cause

tanim says:
chichinga painai
duped says:
borboti?
tanim says:
kono shobjiy na... just chikkkkken
tanim says:
we are saving the vegetables for the vegetarians
tanim says:
oder ja koshto.. amar shojjo hoynba
duped says:
dunia'r shob cheye abused prani ki bolen to?
tanim says:
murgi
tanim says:
thats why there are PETA people protesting outside Kentucky Fried Chicken
tanim says:
naki?
duped says:
lol
duped says:
PETA ppl?
duped says:
what is their problem anyway?
tanim says:
they say KFC dont treat the chicken nice before they cut them up and fry them
duped says:
LOLLOLOLOL
duped says:
this is one joke even the chickens would find funny
tanim says:
its pretty crazy, people are looking for their CAUSE you know...
duped says:
lol
duped says:
now I'm gonna post this conversation on my blog! this is way to good
tanim says:
no no no
tanim says:
i dont some PETA people outside my house!
tanim says:
bhoy paisi.. tomar shathey ekhon theke shabdhaney kotha boltey hobe
duped says:
well...dont worry man...the PETUK ppl will come to your aid
tanim says:
and take my chicken away! tokhon ami ki khabo?

US VISA

A friend applied for the US VISA. His wife has a malignant tumor in the abdomen and is undergoing chemo therapy. The guy never knew happiness before he had fallen in love with the girl. His mother died when he was a little boy and the women his dad remarried turned out to be a step mom from horror stories. He even suffered while he was dating as the two families were not in good terms and there were all sorts of trouble going on.

Now things were just starting to look good. They got married. The guy just got a good job. For once in his life, he had things. And then this.

“Sorry, I cant grant you a VISA. You don’t have enough social ties over here.”
“What would you do if this had happened to your spouse? Wouldn’t you want to be there with him? Could you work normally?”
“I know this is hard”

Is this world fucked up? Or is this world fucked up?

Chocolate

“Its over! Its really over!!”
“She wont ever come again”
“Wont ever hear her voice”
“Wont ever kiss those lips”
“She is not mine!!!”
“I can do nothing to change things…its all gone!”
“Just like that…its all gone”
“It was never there…”
“I wont ever have it, I’d have to do without”


“They are having cakes upstairs”
“Cakes? What for?”
“Birthday”
“Whose birthday?”
“Richard’s”
“Chocolate cake?”
“YESS!!!”

:D And then there was happiness.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

nothing but wall

Distant voices, I call out to thee.
Flashlight beams, keep me blinded
Through the days that come and go
And I keep on running to and fro
Feeding, nesting, scaling doors,
Doin stupid math and silly chores.
Lost in traffic I just wont see
That space in the picture that coulda been me.

But when the days keep you out
And theres too much hiss ‘n shout
And then suddenly they all make sense
- I get what they’re about.
I wonder if they all were true,
Wonder if you knew them too,
Did you ever think you’d bet on ‘em?
‘n paint the cows blue?

Monday, October 09, 2006

weird world

Lately, everybody’s been complaining that I make things way more complicated than they have to be. I get weird things better that way, but I spoil the fun in more obvious things.

This weekend I went to shoot pool with an old friend. Its been a while since I played and I was sure I’d suck at it. Oddly enough, I made most of the shots with complicated angles real easy. Trouble is I missed most of the simple ones (ok…so I lost most of the games). My friend tells me that I play exactly like me, that is, I am no good at it, if things are simple.

Then at work a coworker asks me a simple question and I give her all sorts of explanations except for the answer she was looking for. She loses her patience and tells me to relax and take it easy. She tells me the same thing – “Take things simple for once”.

The same is happening to more serious relationships. “Stop guessing. Don’t try anything. Stop talking.” – I need to learn all that.

I suppose I really need to fix a couple of things about myself. I will be doing the best I can. Just that I cant help but feel mad at the world at times. I didn’t start looking for angles just like that you know; I did not invent them. They were just there I suppose. Can I help it if I learnt them the hard way and then saw the same patterns in other things? Can I help it if most of the hunches turn out to be true? Is it my fault if the system works for years flawlessly and then suddenly the world becomes perfect? The angles jumped me when I didn’t know them. I didn’t complain. Figured that’s the way things are and moved on. I tried my best to keep things straight. Kept my distance where the angles weren’t right. Things worked! Now the world decides to change without a notice? How dare it??

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

101 bad jokes

During the last smoke break ZB, RB and I were talking about Pink Floyd. Near the end the strangest, most ridiculous, hideous thought came to me. What if the only way the three of us could catch a Pink Floyd concert is by agreeing to replace the three chorus chicks in white gowns. I’d be all chirpie, ZB would make like a respectable old maid and RB would be just depressed and go on saying “Faggot, shamggot, Bah!” . He didn’t like the idea one bit. He wants to be a ‘light boy’ instead. Thats kinda faggy too if you ask me.

I guess its not that funny if you cant visualize us swinging to the beat in white gowns. And frankly I hope you don’t. Have a look at this instead – http://www.k10k.net/

Scroll down the page and read the comic strips. Click on previous for more. I liked this one the most -

Century

I thought post number 100 would be special but I guess that aint happenning.

Just got this from ZB; Hope you'll like it as much as I did. :D
http://independentsources.com/2006/07/12/worst-company-urls/

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Mind Game

This is kinda kool -

http://bengalifob.blogspot.com/2006/08/mind-game.html#links

I'm normal. YIPPEE!! :D

Picture on my wall


I’ve been looking at this picture a lot lately (duh! Its on my desktop). I forgot where I found it. I apologize for not being able to credit the artist, or a source link for that matter.

Monday, September 04, 2006

A friend writes

[Got this letter from an old friend. I should have saved all her letters.]

"The weather was damp with the half moon breathing hard in the sky. The night's long and lonely path caressed by the sweet scent of wind. Glamour shone like a gold in a distant city - all lights shimmering, cocktalls served. The colours of silk and satin glazing.

I felt my own life moving... moving..but the body sat still.

what was life without the need? what was life without the warmth of the black suite glamour? I was watched when it was time to return and could not move. I watched carefully what I was into, I watched - lonesome were the dreadful sweet dreams.

At last I learned to move away limping. The rural setting still too far, i thought i would not fail catching up that slow simple life.

Stuck in the middle - struck by need - my old life screamed and called me names..

I wanted to stop limping. How could I get slow for the old ways? They were aged but I was not! how could opportunity be bigger than the old fashioned dreams?

I took out the peacock feathered notebook from my brown leather bag and started to scribble. Stop screaming my past, stop cursing my present. Just wanted to live. Cant be that hard! Cant be so damned hard! Can't bear the loss.

Needed one line of Nazrul's poem. The green jungle of passion, The questionable thoughts and the strength to become completely drunk by one person's presence.

Catch hold of the time not the gold watch. That my friend is of no use."

Thursday, August 31, 2006

A long walk

Had a looong walk today! All the way from Banani to Bijoy Sharani. Probably 7/8 kilos. Why? Don’t ask. Where did I get all that energy after work? I’m not working as hard as I should be. Now, was it fun? It was ok. What did I see on the way? Nothing at all. I guess there was a piece if the sky during the detour through old DOHS. That area is not as crowded as most part either. Add to that the lightness of the head due to starvation. It wasn’t too bad. Met some friends about an hour later in Mohammadpur. Devoured the chaap (deshi steak as Tanm would put it) like a pig. Oh, right! I always eat like that. It wasn’t too bad either. How am I doing? Not so good.

Statement of the day –

“There are a couple of times when philosophy is the least of your concerns. One is when you get food after waiting for it a long time. Another time is when you are constipated.”

Think its no good? Sue me!

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Hello!

Yes sirrie! I’ve committed many sins under the sun.
Now the table has turned; Oh! What have I done!


Sigh…my many sins have finally caught up with me. Thinking about all the wonder years of my life; ran free and wild and picked on anybody who’d so much as pick up the phone and say “hi, I’ll call you back later” in the middle of an adda (traditional group chat sessions during which you smoke an unlimited number of cigarettes and drink 5-10 cups of tea;). I dunno what your reputation is. May be you’re the firecracker of your bunch. May be nobody’s pulled one over you and lived to tell the tale. But believe you me, you wouldn’t want to be on the wrong end of the tea stall mod (consisting of a dozen extremely insensitive chick less guys) jokes.

Ma had a heart attach when she saw last months phone bill (good thing she didn’t see the cell phone bills). But that’s not the worst part. Last week I was eating out with my girl and there was a pause and then out of the blue I said, “hello, how r ya?” Well, I thought it was no big deal and then forgot about it. A few days later I was out with my best cousin, his girl and another cousin. The food was good and we were talking about all sorts of things. Then suddenly out of the blue, I blurted out, “Hello!” It freaked me out! I quickly scanned all their faces and it looked like none of them noticed it. Phew! That’s a relief! Think again! I did it again tonight after dinner. And this time everybody made it. Wonder when I’ll do it at work and then I’d have nowhere else to go in this town. Should start packing my bags before they all get here with tar and feathers. :(

PS. This is one lame post! I was advised to do one on the ‘Agriculture of Bangladesh’ instead. Shoulda listened to her.

Thursday, August 24, 2006

half of what I say

[found this on goatman's blog]

Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.
...Kahlil Gibran
Sand and Foam

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Guess you’ll never know

Guess you’ll never know
How much I want to hold you this morning,
Beads of raindrops dangling from the leaves,
Soft sparkles in the eastern light,
To all hearts they bring delight
Except for the one
That aches for you.

Beautiful raindrops, droplets of pearls
What good are they, to me?
When its you I long to see
How sad it will be
To see the moment flee
For I’ve misplaced the key
That once unlocked your heart.

cute stuff

Can someone please translate this for me? *-)

http://mudhadatmulawanah.blogspot.com/

Monday, August 21, 2006

stupid comments

I was just reading Shakia’s blog and I found this post rather interesting -
http://khsh.blogspot.com/2006/08/re-when-frustration-knocks-door.html

Shakia should be proud she’s got a friend who can writes letters like that! A man of good sense no doubt! I am not about to agree or disagree with his arguments opinions on issues concerning the Lebanon war as I don’t know much about it really. (I know I should and I hope my readers will forgive my naivety) However, I found the writers reasoning and logic rather stimulating.

Now I dunno much about anything but I feel like sharing my thoughts about the middle east crisis. These aren’t facts and figures and rather just emotional junk like the rest of my posts. So there…don’t expect much from them. Ok here goes –

A. Does it matter how Israel came to be? May be the West dumped their shame and guilt somewhere else; may be they got their by force, or may be it was meant to be. Thing is generations of Jewish people have born and died on that land now and its their home. They are there to stay.
B. Arabs/Muslims have always been there and are not going anywhere.
C. Systematic extermination of a Muslims or Jews or any race for that matter is not an option these days. Or is it?
D. Is it at all possible for the people of Israel to find peace by making their neighbors miserable? Is that the way a regular Israeli wants things to be?
E. Its obvious people must learn to coexist. How is the ‘enlightened’ West helping the situation by justifying one side’s hostility and condemning the other?
F. Lets get back to the people. What do they want? At the end of the day people don’t want to go on killing and being killed. They want to live, love and raise kids in peace. Wont they be better off if they could use the war funds for something worthwhile? Its obvious terrorism is not looking after Islam’s best interest. The question is, are the funds coming to Israel from all sorts of places, keeping the hate alive serving Israel’s best interest?

Its obvious that the ones who are screaming about the Middle East crisis the most (i.e., the West) are the reasons behind the dreadful situation. About time they left these unfortunate people alone.


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Thursday, August 17, 2006

Monday, August 14, 2006

Nonsense

[Just read it. Loved it. Wanted to share]

Sing a song of sixpence,
A pocket full of rye,
The lover’s in the garden
The battle’s in the sky.
The banker’s in the city
Getting of his gold;
Oh isn’t it a pity
The rye can’t be sold.

The queen is drinking sherry
And dancing to a band;
A crowd may well feel merry
That it does not understand.

The banker turns his gold about
But that won’t sell the rye,
Starve and grow cold without,
And ask the reason why
The guns are in the garden,
And the battle’s in the sky.

- Julian Bell
[Poetry of the Thirties, edited by Robin Skelton.]

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Slacking Bloggers

Everybody is slacking these days. Tan hasn’t put up anything in weeks. Nowal is hardly keeping up her reputation. Neither is bodda who didn’t post anything new except for that reposting from another blog. My excuse for not posting – bad weather. Well…so here is my input to break the silence. Oh hell…now it sounds kinda boring. Lets not drag this farther. Just one thing before calling it a night; How many of you have liked the Sound of Music (...like the movie :p)?

monsoon weddings

An old school friend of mine is mad at me because I missed ‘all his wedding parties’. For non Bengali readers (if any), my friend got married only once. Here weddings are a big deal and usually involve three or four extravagant ceremonies. I was invited in three in this case and I managed to miss them all without good enough excuses. Now this friend of mine and I go back a long way so cant blame him for being disappointed. The fact is, I dread this sort of gatherings, especially because there will be a lot of old school friends. Odd eh? But that’s the way I feel.

Its not that I didn’t have many friends at school, in fact it was quite the opposite. Do I have school spirit? Just line up a gang from any rival school from my time and let them take a shot and then find out what happens! What about memories? Hell I got plenty to get nostalgic about; fleeing from the school James Bond style, stealing books from book fairs, getting brutally beaten up by the teachers - got ‘em all! Then I went off to a college where boys from our school have historically been the majority. So why the recent apathy to go to school gatherings?

Well…I don’t know…I guess something changed. For starters folks just don’t seem to be as open anymore, (myself included). Theres a lot more money talk and showing off going on. Then everybody is dressed up all nice and acting all strange. Of course I got a bunch of people in there who I’ve been tight with all along and not like it’s an unpopular bunch either. Still, even the folks I’m tight with, I have somehow drifted apart. The jokes aren’t what they used to be, mine are either too loud or too subtle for most part. I cant really share things about my line of work or other interests with anybody (none of them knows that I write crap). And now a days it seems I forget everything (forgot if my good fiend’s one year old is a boy or a girl) and am too scared to make a fatal mistake. Sometimes friends are bringing in their wives and I, lacking all social graces, don’t have a clue as to how I should behave around them. I mean, if she was a girl friend I guess I could just turn down the volume a bit and try to be funny. But since everyone is acting all grown up and respectable, I am just not sure if that’d be enough.

So for all that and for the fact that I’d have to go home, shave and dress up before going to each of these, I don’t feel like going at weddings. But it looks like there are going to be plenty of these now since people are turning 27 and are in a hurry to get hitched. Somebody tell me what to do. :(


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Wednesday, August 09, 2006

No redemption for the cursed

So it finally ends. At least I’ve been consistent with my ‘two month’ track record. Well…I guess I cant complaint; got plenty of time for myself now and (much lower phone bills). Just that I had started believing in it...thought this would be the wonderful miracle of my life. Oh well…statistics won over sensations once more! LoL! So much for broken hallelujah. :D

Monday, August 07, 2006

In my sleep

Sleep’s been chasing me all week.
I’d like nothing better (than)
To giving in;
Let it work its magic,
Let it take over my senses
As the eyelids grow heavy.

This one is a gentle lover
Never rushing me
Through phases
Taking its time,
Pouring in – little by little,
Letting it all settle.

In my sleep I’m going places
Back and forth and beyond.
Am gazing at the horizons,
Remaining ever far.
Never did venture out
- The thought’d sometimes occur.

In my sleep she comes to me;
Her voice rings so true!
In my sleep I see all colors
Even the pinkish hue.
In my sleep I see all colors
Except the shades of blue.


Sleeping Gypsy (Rousseau, 1897)

Friday, August 04, 2006

such a perv!

During the last weekly conference call at work, something caught my ears. I heard someone say - “he is dating all the fags comin”.

Of course no such thing was actually being discussed in the meeting. What she actually said was – “he is updating all the FAQs coming in”.

Somebody tell me theres still hope for me. Will ya? :$

Monday, July 31, 2006

world history

Well…here is something I found while cleaning up the PC. A lot of crap talk as usual. Do yourself a favor and stop here.

I have been reading this book on ancient history of the world and all sorts of ideas ‘ve bubbling in my head. Wipe that frawn of your face my friend I aint trying to pull anything here. It’s a book written for children but as you can see, I can not very well try to bite anything harder than that cause I don’t want to start using dentures right away. So three cheers for baby food! Anyway I’ll try to cut the crap and get to the point, if there is one.

Like I said the book was on ‘ancient history’ – it started from the time a bunch of nutty apes made the world’s first nutcrackers. Then it goes on to people farming collective lands and then they had enough tools to work on separate pieces of lands on their own and it all started at about then. There were good lands and bad lands and good yields and bad yields and good luck and bad luck. Soon some of the people had less than they needed and some had a little bit more than they could use. Long story short, after a while there were kings and slaves on this world. And oh yes there was always the middle class.

Now, it has been a while since people had learnt to farm lands and we havn’t been sitting idle. Many a great fights been fought, pyramids built on slave labor, tragedies and comedies staged, charters signed, martyrs crucified, genocides committed and freedom lost and found. People lost hope once in a while and prophets came from Gods to light a candle or two to lead them on.

With all things going on for hundreds and thousands of years, repeating themselves every now and then, a few things have been consistent throughout. People will practice unimaginable cruelty to get other people work for them – some form of slavery always exists, slaves will try to break free – although most men would rather make like a sheep and graze and bleat and make a fuss just before being slaughtered at the alter, some will go on and try to ‘change the system’ or bring about the ‘kingdom of god’ or establish communism or heal the world – something along that line. And in most cases, most of these rouge elements will be eradicated, using excessive force. Sometimes things go bad and tables get turned. Songs get written, monuments are erected, martyrs are honored and it looks like things are gonna get better this time for sure.

Now, we all know these why make such a fuss about it? It is because things are getting a little crazier every day and I along with other sheep in my herd am getting a little nervous and would like to blow off some steam by bleating as I please.

Lets face it friends, the world is small. It doesn’t have enough for all of us to live in luxury. We are too many! We would probably all have enough to eat if we could break the bread evenly but I guess that’s just asking too much. Its been tried more than once and it never really worked. Did it? Now it all gone bad and its time to set something up afresh. Christians are busy cleaning houses, Jews are busy counting bits and pennies, Muslims are too mad to figure anything and the communists are snoozing on Russian vodka and curing on the great American dream boat. What can we start anew?

Theres just not enough time to start anything! Not like people aren’t having a go at it. But we are too many and its just not that easy to get five sheep bleating the same tune. We are too many, too little to eat and too little time.

I say lets send more rockets to mars. See if we can send enough slaves there to work the fields. After the 1st generation have slaved away and died, may be the next generations will get to dream a little great ‘Martian dream’. And when theres another world to grow food on, love and plunder. We would get a few years of peace and harmony and we’d be nice to our neighbors, respect our elders, respect people’s rights and shit in both worlds. And then the war of the worlds can begin.


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headless chicken run

As tanm would put it, I’ve been quite the headless chicken lately, bumping into things, toppling over stuff and all. My minds a blank; dunno what I ought to be thinking about. It takes you years to get into a lifestyle and then zoom! You gotta change into something else! How easy is that?

The brothers want me to watch movies with them.
My gal wants me on the phone.
My boss wants me to come to the office on time.

What of the stuff that I was supposed to read?
What of moving to Canada?
What about the things I was supposed to write?
What of the lady with the radiant smile?

I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Gotta see this through.

Meanwhile the worlds been spinning.

ZB’s been on a run. See all sorts of neat stuff on his space.

So is tanm – great posts man!

Nowals been falling down, bumping her head and cutting off her hair. That child is up to no good I tell you. It’s a good thing she’s still posting.

Oh well…its all good.

Sunday, July 30, 2006

What a wonderful world

There are all sorts of ways of spending a weekend. You could watch movies all night and sleep through the next day. Then you could go out with people to have fuchka (a local delicatessen). You could also spend the day with your girl. Or may be you don’t do any of that and just lay back and stare at the wall all day (that’s a good way! Trust me!). But none of them was good for me. Noo! I am too good to be spending my time like that! Serves me right!

The plan wasn’t too bad. My lady had to finish a report, so I figured I might as well follow the family who’d gone to spend the weekend in a tea garden in Sylhet. It started decently enough; we got there at around 4 am in the morn. The tea estate was way more than what I expected! People, you should all try to spend a coupla days in a tea garden. We watched the sun come up behind the hills from the veranda. The light and the clouds made all sorts of pretty pictures in the sky. Then we went for a walk. I just can describe how beautiful it was so I aint even gonna try. I’ll just make a list of things there – lots of trees (duh!); streams of running water with fish running about to and fro; wooden bridges, wet grass after the rain; pretty little hills; squirrels; natural water fountain and the sandy tub of crystal clear cool water, sigh…I shoulda known it was too good to be true.

Right after breakfast the senior citizens shooed us into the car and drove out to see…ROCKS! A four hour trip in a hot sunny day to see ROCKS! Aint that a brilliant idea! And ROCKS we saw! There were rocks on the ground, rocks on the river bed, rocks piled up here and there, rocks on boats, people carrying rocks, big rocks, small rocks, medium rocks, rocks of all size and colors. It ROCKED all right! Hell!

Then we were on the way back. We, the guys, was beginning to hope that we’d get back in time to catch the sunset, may be even get to explore the area a little more. Sigh…men proposes and God disposes. Here God being a woman of course. The gal cousin, the only one, suddenly remembered she had her mother’s, uncle’s someone living in the area. The senior citizens asked us if we wanted to go. We said NO. So they decided to GO! Now the cousin’s mother’s uncle’s someone happens to work in a ‘famous’ manure oops, sorry, fertilizer factory. The senior citizens just couldn’t think of passing the chance to get a tour of the facility after social chit chatting for one hour. I guess we should be thankful for the opportunity! DAMN!

So we went to the manure, sorry, fertilizer factory. (note: it actually has nothing to do with dung or any of that; the stuff is made from Calcium Carbonate) Was greeted by a strong stench of Ammonia in the 1st corner. Then there was the scary powerhouse and the rest of it. Then there was the place with the thousand fountains spraying water towards the sky, too keep the powerhouse gizmos cool it seems. Saw huge cylinders spinning with attached hammer like things drumming on it. (Made quite a beat I must say, tan would probably make a tune out of it). Saw tubes and pipes fuming with, hot, hissing stuff. Then saw the white powder stash that looked like huge scoops of ice cream. They made us go into the powerhouse, which was really hot inside and made a horrific noise. Its amazing why I did not go deaf permanently. Wasn’t a total loss; I got to fulfill one of my age old fantasies which happens to be reciting all the nice and decent curses I know, on top of my voice, in the presence of the elders. Yippee! When that was done I really didn’t see any point in taking the punishment anymore so I walked out.

Just as I was coming out of the facility, I looked up at the sky and wow! Double rainbows! Full half circles! Right there! The biggest the most distinct ones I’d ever seen. So I guess the day wasn’t a total loss. So what if most of it was shitty and your gal tells you later that she did not need the whole day and could make a few hours to hook up; so what if on your way back the little goat you had cuddled decides to jump in front of the car and end it’s life and your cousins make sick jokes about it. I still got the rainbows…

Somewhere…over the rainbow…way up high…

[my cam is acting up again. I will get some pictures from my uncle and put ‘em in here later]

Israel Kamakawiwo - Somewhere Over The Rainbow


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Saturday, July 15, 2006

To My Name

Tonight I celebrate
My life, my name
Although I got nothing
No fortune, no fame,
Just another face in the crowd,
A pawn in the game,
But tonight I’ll raise my cup
And drink to my name.

You are too many; I wont ever win.
You’ll break me down; down to smithereens.
I’ve been bruised and battered.
Too many dreams been shattered.
But you couldn’t get me out.
Am still in your game.
So tonight I’ll raise my cup
And drink to my name.

Against the odds I played my cards;
Still am playin…
Against the tide I sailed my ship;
Still am floating…
Against the wind I chose to run;
Still am runnin…
And tonight I’ll raise this cup
And drink to my name.


Against The Wind, Bob Seger
[Download] [Lyrics]

Shine On You Crazy Diamond

Remember when you were young,
You shone like the sun.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Now there's a look in your eyes,
Like black holes in the sky.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
You were caught on the crossfire
Of childhood and stardom,
Blown on the steel breeze.
Come on you target for faraway laughter,
Come on you stranger, you legend, you martyr, and shine!

You reached for the secret too soon,
You cried for the moon.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Threatened by shadows at night,
And exposed in the light.
Shine on you crazy diamond.
Well you wore out your welcome
With random percision,
Rode on the steel breeze.
Come on you raver, you seer of visions,
Come on you painter, you piper, you prisoner, and shine!

- Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Pink Floyd
[download the song]

While searching for Syd’s paintings and drawings I came across an interview of his nephew. I wasn’t interested at first but now I’m glad that I went in for a peek. It was nice to know that Syd did not spend his last days in some asylum in vegetative state, that he found joy in his paintings, books and studies.

“he is definitely starting to find a sense of contentment that has eluded him since his breakdown. He is happy to just potter about at home; watching television and doing a bit of painting or reading. Having a conversation with Roger is not the same as one with most people as he DOES have quite a strange and fragmented way of speaking; so everyday thing come out sounding quite abstract; but it all has it's own internal logic and it's just his way of expressing himself. If people still want to think that Roger is this wild lunatic he was supposed to be in the Sixties ( even though I'm sure much of this was complete invention ) then they are welcome to ; but I feel that this is a disservice to his contribution to Music and him as a human being and is also a very lazy way to view the situation. What really makes me sick about the media attention of Roger's career is the way he is written off as a 'madman'- a rock genius who was just such a 'crazed madcap' that there is no need to worry about the extent of pain and anguish he went through in the years directly after the band became successful. Without going into details I don't think people are prepared to understand the true extent of Roger's breakdown or the pressures he was put under.”
[Set The Controls Interviews Ian Barrett]

A couple of links –
http://www.angelfire.com/wv/breastmilky/artwork.html
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/5169344.stm

Thursday, July 13, 2006

the toon me

Its about time I put this in here. ZB did it. Real good job too if you ask me. Wonder why he ‘likes’ me so much. Well here it is –





This is what I really look like when I’m hit by a satellite, run over by a truck and then poked in the eye by a crow. A striking resemblance! Don’t you think? Hats off to ZB! Will have to repay the debt someday.

Btw…I think most folks here already know how to upload videos and stuff. The ignorant ones, like myself, will probably find this helpful. None of them really helped me cause I'm using an swf and no one is worried about as simple a format as that. I just needed to keep the file somewhere and hotlink it. Took me all night to find a site that lets you do that. Thanks to filelodge.bolt.com I'm finally going to bed. Cionara!

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

crap talk

Cant seem to shake off the stained ‘rusty feeling’ from ma mind. Its like the mind goes numb and dumb and you don’t even dare move the muscles in your brain cause it feels like they’d blow apart into tiny li’l pieces and get scattered all over the place. Not that it’d b too bad but you cant help worrying u’d have to get up and clean the mess yourself. So what do you do? You just sit and stare at the walls (guess what was on it) – not for hours but for the few minutes that you have in between jumping from one thing to another on the to do list. Not like the list makes any sense or getting you anywhere but its there, for the heck of it and right now its too scary to think about what really needs to be in it.

Things been happening. My world has changed in more than one way. Been complaining about the ‘same ol routine’ and now it feels real odd to be out of it.

Spend the weekend in a different way. Took a friend out to catch a show (a drama) with the cousins. Wasn’t much of a show if you ask me. I am all for loud humor but they’re all good. I’d say the whole thing was rather amateurish; like kids having the run in school plays. But what do I know! It was their 500 th or 1000 th performance, so there.

Been spending too much time on the phone like a teenager. Word of wisdom – it wont be the same, no matter how hard you try. Its not your fault; its just not your time. But then again…you do need to do stuff once in a while. Got to take someone out on a dinner. And it went rather well too. Love the fact that she’s rough around the edges and not a show off smoker (a real deal). Did I mention she’s cute? Just wish I had the energy to keep up with her.

Rudra in the middleRudra left for Australia on Monday. Fucked work and met at NSU for the last time. (there’d be other times but those’d never b the same) For a coupla hours it was just like old times. Rounds of smokes and tea and crap talk. We had a good run at the uni. We were the tea stall gang the cools avoided, the cultured dreaded, wannabe’s pitied, and losers envied and the average liked. (Come to think of it strays made the gang) We had little in common except for the fact that we all ate like pigs and acted like ‘em too. Of course we were chickless for the most part but it wasn’t too bad. Yep! Had it real good while it lasted. And we wouldn’t have it half as good without Rudra.

Ever met anyone who’s never boring? Never has a bad day and would never talk about his personal crap? Who never smokes, or drinks or talks about sleeping with chicks and is still popular all around? The guys knew everybody and everybody knew him. Everybody’d confide in him and he’d put it on national TV the next minute and it’d still be all right. He’d never say a kind word or any of that ‘I’m here for you’ crap when you are down. But you know you can count on him when craps going down. He’d let macho men and tough guys talk big and let ‘em get away with it. If they only knew where that guy’s been to. LOL!

So we hang around NSU for a coupla hours and we went our ways. No fancy good byes. “Ok then…later”. – and that was that. Whats their to say? We’d keep up in msn? Kheks.

So long brother! See you soon.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Ismail Shammout - artist, activist, humanist


To Where..?

I’ve been reading about Ismail Shammout - artist, historian, activist, and compassionate humanist in umkahlil’s blog. The great Palestinian painter passed away on the 3rd of this month. May he rest in peace.

Umkahlil quoted this poem by Tawfiq Zayyad as a tribute to the late artist –

ALL I HAVE

I never carried a rifle
On my shoulder
Or pulled a trigger.

All I have
Is a lute’s memory
A brush to paint my dreams,
A bottle of ink.

All I have
Is unshakeable faith
And an infinite love
For my people in pain.

ZB RULZ


http://zahidur59.spaces.msn.com

I work with this guy. He is the coolest, most creative SOB I’ve ever came across. Read his stuff. See his artworks. You’ll know what I mean. Praise him, curse him, worship him.

PS. He is also the most insensitive, sarcastic, heartless bastard I have come to know. Hell of a guy!

Friday, June 30, 2006

dreaming yellow

Lévy-Dhurmer, Vent d'Automme - Portrait de Mlle Suzanne S.
[Autumn Wind - Portrait of Ms Suzanne S.]


Dreaming a little dream,
Of a yellow Autumn day,
Of a yellow orange road,
I’ll never walk down,
Of a pretty little face,
I’ll never know.


The trees, standing tall, inviting,
Shedding yellow and orange all over,
Trees with beautiful names
I’ve read of in the books,
Beaming bright than ever
When she turns and looks.

I’m walking down that road
With wooden fences right and left.
I’m breathing in the morning breeze,
Speaking of life new, smelling yellow.
I’m watching the butterfly dance,
Around her golden glow.

[So it’s not much of a poem! Big deal!]

goodbye Argentina

Argentina lost last night on tie breaker to Germany. I should be happy. I was too for a brief moment when I thought about the look on the bearded guy’s face in the morning. Well,…not feeling that way now. Some guys, upset Argentine fans it seems, tore down all the posters and pictures the bearded guy hung on his wall. I feel bad for the poor fellow now. He spent a lot of time and effort on putting those up. He’d bring in new posters from time to time, put ‘em around his flag and then cover them with plastic sheets so that they don’t get wet in the rain. Many a time I have seen him standing and looking at his handiwork affectionately very late at night (around 3 am in the morning). The boys shouldn’t have trashed it like that.














[My cam got banged up so couldn’t post a better picture.]

In a way the bearded guy was a lot like bloggers. Just that instead of html pages, he pasted his stuff on that wall. You could tell he was having fun. He even made a shade and hung a light so that people could see them at nights. And people did. In the afternoons I have seen kids (big kids too) gather in front of the pictures and point out their favorite players. “See! That’s Messi, the new Maradona!”. “Theres Sorin! My Hero!” – kids liked those pictures. Man! I am almost feeling ashamed to have put the Brazil flag on top of it before. Poor guy!

Thursday, June 29, 2006

Dr Lutfur Rahman - An Inspiration

The other day during lunch ma was telling me about this doctor whom she saw on TV the day before. She really liked the doctor. She told me he seemed sincere, honest and kindly. She however, didn’t say such nice things about a certain lady (not the hostess) present on the show. “She couldn’t keep her mouth shut! She went on and on when nobody could care less about what she had to say.” She also told me to look up the Star Weekend Magazine which did a story on him a coupla weeks back.

It is obvious that the man is a genius. He is much more. He is what all doctors should be like around here. He sees his patients for free (He draws a monthly salary where he works). He takes money for the operations but even then he is extremely considerate towards the poor. In fact he openly offered his help to anyone who may need it. He makes it a point to treat his patients right. This is far from the common practice in this country.

We only think, talk and write about things that are going wrong in this country. Here is something going right! Dr. Rahman set an example that I’m sure many others will follow. There is hope yet. Eh? :D

my roommate

I don’t think I mentioned my roommate, Abidur Rahman in any of my posts. Well, he is a cousin of mine who is a couple of years younger than me. And he is quite a character! I’d have to write a book about this guy some day. For now, here is a picture which says a lot about him.

The artist is Turjo, the sixth boy in the family. I’d say his membership into the men’s club is now confirmed.

[Abid says: “Bash kete chete nileo bash e thake” (Even if trimmed, a bamboo is still a bamboo) Go figure :p]

Saturday, June 24, 2006

Meaning of Life (?)

I’ve been obsessed with blogs lately. (Still didn’t get back to work you see…) Been reading up on all sorts of blogs. I came across one that deliberated on the meaning of life, a question that everybody has asked, one time or another in their lives, and then came up with an answer that they can accept or have concluded that its not worth the trouble and moved on or have wasted more time on it than they should have and then ended up on the same line with the others. One thing is for sure, there hasn’t been an answer to that has been universally shared or accepted by all who asked it.

The post I stumbled upon was rather serious. Of course I didn’t get most of it. (mental note to self: shoulda stuck to porn sites that are more suitable for a person with my level of intellect). Anyhow, I got to thinking about it my way and remembered that I had read something about it once that kinda made sense. I’ll be sharing that with you. For further research on the topic(the bum way) watch Monty Python’s THE MEANING OF LIFE.
[Caution: Don’t watch it if you don’t have a thing for nonsense. ;)]

“For the same uprush of fancy which had shown him with all the force of mathematical demonstration that life had no meaning, brought with it another idea; and that was why Cronshaw, he imagined, had given him the Persian rug. As the weaver elaborated his pattern for no end but the pleasure of his aesthetic sense, so might a man live his life, or if one was forced to believe that his actions were outside his choosing, so might a man look at his life, that it made a pattern. There was as little need to do this as there was use. It was merely something he did for his own
pleasure. Out of the manifold events of his life, his deeds, his feelings, his thoughts, he might make a design, regular, elaborate, complicated, or beautiful; and though it might be no more than an illusion that he had the power of selection, though it might be no more than a fantastic legerdemain in which appearances were interwoven with moonbeams, that did not matter: it seemed, and so to him it was. In the vast warp of life (a river arising from no spring and flowing endlessly to no sea), with the background to his fancies that there was no meaning and that nothing was important, a man might get a personal satisfaction in selecting the various strands that worked out the pattern. There was one pattern, the most obvious, perfect, and beautiful, in which a man was born, grew to manhood, married, produced children, toiled for his bread, and died; but there were others, intricate and wonderful, in which happiness did not enter and in which success was not attempted; and in them might be discovered a more troubling grace. Some lives, and Hayward's was among them, the blind indifference of chance cut off while the design was still
imperfect; and then the solace was comfortable that it did not matter; other lives, such as Cronshaw's, offered a pattern which was difficult to follow, the point of view had to be shifted and old standards had to be altered before one could understand that such a life was its own justification. Philip thought that in throwing over the desire for happiness he was casting aside the last of his illusions. His life had seemed horrible when it was measured by its happiness, but now he seemed to gather strength as he realised that it might be measured by something else. Happiness mattered as little as pain. They came in, both of them, as
all the other details of his life came in, to the elaboration of the design. He seemed for an instant to stand above the accidents of his existence, and he felt that they could not affect him again as they had done before. Whatever happened to him now would be one more motive to add to the complexity of the pattern, and when the end approached he would rejoice in its completion. It would be a work of art, and it would be none the less beautiful because he alone knew of its existence, and with his death it would at once cease to be.”
- Maugham, W. Somerset, Of Human Bondage

Thursday, June 22, 2006

A beautiful blog

I have come across this blog which is very different from the regular blogs we know. I asked the owner if I can link it from my blog. She did not respond but I am going to take that as a yes since I really want to share it with all you people.

So here is Leading Five Lives. I am sure many of you will love it. :)

breeding psychopaths

A student of class 7 wanted make some money and figured the best way to do that is by killing his classmate. Things went according to plan for the most part. Only instead of just one, he had to slash three throats. Now do keep in mind that he did not plan on killing all 3 in the beginning; it just happened.

Now only the weak at heart made a fuss about it. The policemen did not seem to be too worried about the whole thing. The person in charge blamed the working mother for not looking after her kid as she ought to. She shoulda kept an eye on him, find out what kind of friends he is hanging out with. The police had nothing to say about the killers’ guardians though. I guess he did not think there is anything wrong with them. Its obvious it all happened cause women go out to work and not stay home as they should. Btw, all three victims happen to be A students with good reputation all around. But I guess their mothers get no credit for that.

Then there was the landlord and the landlady. The TV cameras were there and the landlady appeared on the scene wearing heavy make up to comment on the incident. She is not just a pretty (?) face and she made sure everyone understood it from her ‘intelligent’ remarks. She and her husband saw it fit to go on and on about how the kids are always addafying, making noise and using the computer all the time. They were obviously trying to hint at something. Most probably they were hinting at porn. (The subsequent investigations did not reveal any connection with porn. But what if there was porn in the kid’s PC? Would it indicate that he wasn’t such a good kid after all? Even though he hangs out with good kids and gets good grades? I mean he is 12! Isn’t he? Anyhow, that is not the issue.) I guess we have to accept that there will always be all sorts of people around us who’d see no harm in talking about all sorts of crap in a house where somebody just tried to murder 3 kids.

Now, lets have a look at the killers. It turns out that the mastermind behind the plot was a classmate of the 3. Now he is a piece of work. In his interview he seemed neither unnerved nor out of wits while talking about the incident. I wonder what he is gonna be in a few years. He is probably going to be sent away to a juvenile correctional facility. He is a killer now. By the time he gets out of the kooler he is gonna become a monster for sure. Oh well, I guess there is always use for that sort. Gonna make some people really rich before dropping dead in a crossfire somewhere.

Now some folks, obviously weak at heart, got upset about the whole mess. They got together and tried to find out how this sort of thing can happen within the society. (This is hardly the first time.) They id’d all sorts of sources, - the violence in TV, video games, student politics and all that. They did seem rather anxious.

Well, what do I know about stuff but I say its not just the TV. I mean why wouldn’t people want to kill each other off? Cause its immoral? Cause society forbids it? How is it doing that? What exactly are parents, teachers and schools are teaching us about showing empathy and compassion to our fellow men? I mean the schools are only asking people to study cause they’d need the degrees to beat others to decent jobs later on. Parents are always worrying about the grades and never about the stuff children are actually learning at schools. At home the kids are watching their parents buying stuff their salaries can’t afford, lying and bribing their way to get ahead. The ones who don’t see all that neat stuff lying around are wondering what their parents are doing wrong. On the streets the kids watch people pushing and shoving to make way. Busses would much rather run people over to beat the competition than wait a couple minutes. In the schools kids find their teachers behaving like animals, treating them like animals. They watch them shamelessly advertise their private tuitions; for a bit of cash they’d get you better grades. Weren’t they supposed to do that anyway? Same goes on in the public hospitals where doctors don’t care if a patient dies on their watch as long as they are putting that time to good use, making enough from private practices. Theres no use talking about all sorts of irregularities in public offices, everybody knows about those. Everybodys at it, more or less, everybodys had a taste. Now what could you expect from the children of these people?

In the end you are measured by the size of your purse and words like ‘honesty’, ‘integrity’ and ‘morality’ are just elements of literature. Why wouldn’t a kid consider slaying somebody for 5 thousand bucks? A good days work and he’d be 5k richer. No use blaming the TV. Something else handed him the razor. TV just showed him how to make the cut.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Asterix the Gaul

Been too exhausted for movies or books. So got myself a bunch of Asterix to read in bed. Turned out to be a real good idea; laughed my ass off! Will have to get myself a new batch ASAP. Too bad the English ones are too expensive. Thankfully, it seems the Bangla ones are just as good! Ananda Publishers really did a good job with these!

People who used to read these in school, its time you read them again. Its worth it! People who haven’t read any yet, - there is still time to save your souls! Run down to the bookstore and get some right now!

Saturday, June 17, 2006

Six - Nil

Argentina won again, 6-0 against Serbia Montenegro. God knows what the bearded guy is going to do! Heh! There goes all my plans to do all those wonderful, dreadful things when Argentina goes out of the tournament. Looks like they are gonna be here for a while. Brazil! Snap out of your high and start kickin butts already!



PS. The bearded guy just made a racket downstairs with his buddies. Thank God its raining so they could not keep it up for long. Or else it woulda been too much to take. :(

Monday, June 12, 2006

Shame

And I thought it was going to be a dull week, being sick and all. The world has turned upside down at work. Everything is falling apart. Has got nothing to do with my absence but has something to do with my incompetence for sure. Oh well…not much good talking about it now.

All good things end, sooner or later. Never better too much on the word ‘fair’ – got nothing to do with how things work. Still it all feels fucking absurd! There is no reason in this world. You can do everything right and still end up with a raw deal. The people who cant do anything right on the other hand are better off. For one thing they are never stressed since they are never working. They can just wait for others to finish their work so that they can chip in with their constructive criticisms and get patted on the back. All good and reasonable I’m sure. Just that it feels so freaking impossible when I think about it!

Anyhow, I’m sure it wont be too hard for me to live with this shame. I should be thankful that I am not a man of substance cause its obvious that they are the ones who take the pain, get things done and then end up with a bad deal.

an eventful night

Had the most amazing dreams and nightmares last night. Had amazing conversations; don’t know who with. At one point somebody said, “I see quote of arms everywhere! I must be James Bond!” and everybody laughed. Then somebody asked, “Why do friends in the night turn tricksters in the day?”. Cant make head of tail of these now but they made perfect sense in the dream.

Also in my dreams I posted two new blog entries, responded to two comments (I believe one of them was from Nowal) and read two blogs; don’t remember what they were about now but they seemed really interesting in the dream. Mental note to myself: Take some time off from blogs.

And finally there was the nightmare. I don’t have nightmares often so I dunno much about them. But this one sure was scary. I was looking for a case or something for somebody inside a dark chamber. Only the entrance to the room was lighted with the light in the corridors. I had no idea how big the room actually was or if there were other doors and windows to it. The floor of the room was packed with little boxes, arranged in beehive pattern. I was picking out boxes, holding them to the light and then putting them back again. Then I picked one that looked awfully like the ones they show in Hell raiser movies. And it did something funny too! I tried to put it back but it wont fit back in. I just couldn’t get rid of it. Then I woke up and saw the markings on the box before me in glowing silver. Looked upwards and saw the reflection on the window. Worked out a really weird explanation for all this. Heard someone moving beside me and felt better for a second. It scared the shit out of me when I remembered I’d been sleeping alone since I got sick! Then I woke up again for the second time.

Tried to analyze this:

Sickness à Stress à Death Thoughts à Whats Next? à What if there is Hell à Bummer!

A regular Fraisure Crane! Aint I? Well certainly as boring! Forgive me people. Cant help babbling when the temperature is on the rise. :$

Saturday, June 10, 2006

from the Sick Bed

Woke up in the morning with a 103 degree fever. Took a shower to get it down a li’l before taking painkillers. Was feeling pretty good by the time I finished breakfast and went to sleep again. When I woke up again for lunch the fever was back again. Now I don’t mind the fever so much but what I hate is the other things that ganged up with it. My neck’s been hurting like hell for the last coupla weeks, due to an accident which seemed rather fortunate at the moment. (Word to the wise, if you aren’t a teenager, don’t think you can act like one.) Also have this rather irritating headache all the time at the back of the head. To sum it up, it’s been rather uncomfortable.

So what do the wise do when they find themselves in a fix like this? I guess they think of happy places in their heads and go there and live happily ever after and so on. Tried that too – dint work. So figured I’d just lie there and stare at the walls, - just like old times. Used to be sick a lot when I was a kid. Got some sickly memories that I could do without. Anyhow, it wasn’t all bad I suppose. I remembered those nice little Russian children’s books that people would bring when they came to visit. Russia at that time used to print lots of stuff, including children’s books, in dozens of languages. I guess there were political motives behind this but the books were still very nice. And real cheap too! There were also Chinese ones but I liked Russian ones better. Don’t see those around anymore. Such a shame.

Anyway, I remembered this story about a little girl who was sick for months and nobody could figure out what was wrong with her. The doctors almost gave up hope. Then one day the little girl tells her that she wants to see a real life elephant. Her dad somehow manages to bring an elephant in the house. The girl spends a whole day with the elephant and gets better the next morning. Was a really nice book.

Caught the opening ceremony of the FIFA World Cup on TV! I dunno…felt a li’l artsi-fartsi but may be just because I dunno much about the local traditions and stuff. Caught the 1st game between Germany and Costa Rica. Goals Galore! 6 of ‘em and its just the first match! But I must say, other than the goals, there is hardly anything worth mentioning about the game.

I had a bet with my cousin a coupla weeks ago that if he can paint a Brazilian flag over the Argentine flag, which a certain bearded person from the opposite building took great pains to draw on the garage wall, and takes great pride in showing off, I’d pay him a thousand bucks. Now there are guards around all the time and it is not as easy a task as it seems. So I offered him a second option. He can make a paper flag and just paste it on top. Of course since paper can be easily torn off, I wont be paying him just as much. At 2 am in the morning it looked like the coast was finally clear. My cousins snuck out and committed the heinous crime! Can see it from my window – a job well done I must say. Cant wait to see the bearded person’s face in the morning! :D

[PS. I tend to babble a little too much when the temperature is on the rise. Please accept my sincere apologies and heartfelt condolences in case this post has bored you to death. Rest in piece, Godless, etc.]

Friday, June 09, 2006

Li’l Nowal

I believe I found the younger version of Nowal! Don’t take my word for it, read Of the World and Boiled Eggs.

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

Cyrano de Bergerac

“Let’s call it my vice. It pleases me to displease. I love to be hated. If you only knew how stimulating it is to be under the murderous fire of hostile eyes, and how amusing it is to watch faces turn venomous with envy or sweaty with fear! The soft friendship that surrounds others is like one of those loose, floating Italian collars that leave your neck free to bend in all directions: you’re more comfortable, but your head is less erect. But the hatred that presses in upon me is like a starched Spanish ruff whose stiffness forces me to hold my head high.”
[Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac, Act Two, Scene VIII]

“What’s that you say? It’s useless? Of course, but I’ve never needed hope of victory to make me fight! The noblest battles are always fought in vain!”
[Act Five, Scene VI]

I’m glad I made Syeed bring me back the book. Got my money’s worth and more. (That reminds me I still haven’t paid him back.) I am not in the habit of reading plays. I tried a paragraph from Shakespeare once and it felt as if all my teeth just fell off. Took me a lot of guts to try a play again. Good thing is, this one, probably because it’s a modern translation, was real easy. Of course there are words in it that I don’t know but it was crisp enough. I wonder what the original French version is like. Oh well…since I don’t know the language I might as well forget about it.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

bad spell

“because in the protecting darkness, I dare at last be myself, I dare…What was I saying? I don’t know…All this…Excuse my agitation! All this is so enchanting…”
[Edmond Rostand, Cyrano de Bergerac, Act Three, Scene VII]

Not been feeling so well. A rather odd time to come down with a bad spell. Had a good many things going right. Once again I see the walls…Closing in on me…Walls coming to get me…Trapped and nowhere to run…I look for a way out and there is none…There never is. Anyhow, here is one from the scrapbook -

What comes of a day like this?
A day so bright and shiny
A perfect morning that promises a kiss,
Then lost in thoughts tiny.

At the end of the day all that is left
A tired body and the smell of sweat
What could come of a day like this?
Everything but the promised kiss.

What could come of a night like this?
Nights shortened by sleeping pills
Or in feeble words, trying to conceal
The fact; nothings left; nothing to feel…
No height to reach, no ride to hitch,
No place to stay but bills to pay

Lies! All! And all in vain!
So very pathetic these unworthy men!
Nothing comes of a night like this.
Not even…the promised kiss.

Friday, June 02, 2006

bird brains

[The ancient ritual of bird making: The chosen one is found and brought to the alter of sacrifice. The sacred pole and sacred ropes are brought to the ground before the arrival of the chosen one. The chosen one then spreads his arms like a bird. The arms form a 180-degree angle between them and are fastened tightly to the sacred pole. The chosen one, possessed by spirits is likely to exhibit vigorous displays of resistance. Bringing the sacred pole in contact with the head of the chosen one will calm him down. Once the preparation is complete, the following mantra is chanted in unison: “Shona chan pakhi, ami dakitesi tumi ghumaiso naki”. When the chanting reaches the appropriate decibel level, the last piece of garment from the birds body, (i.e. the pants on the chosen one) is removed. The chosen then becomes one with the nature feeling free and happy like a bird.

Note for ‘extremely intelligent’ readers: No sodomizing takes place during or after the ceremony]

Spending lazy time at home and getting bored. Smoking at regular intervals.

“Bro, guess wat happened on the bus yesterday”
“You saw a chick?”
“Yah! And the chicks just…looking at me…so I look too…and she don’t look away!”
“So wat happened?”
“Well…what do u mean what happened?”
“So nothing happened?”
“HUH! Wat have I been telling u?”
“Shut the fuck up”
“Ok”

[nothing for a minute]

“Prinka Chopra is real hot!”
“Oh yeah!”

[nothing for 5 mins]

“Say, lets make a bird.”
“Yea? Who?” – looks suspicious.
“Not you birdbrain! Lets do one on Titters”
“Yeah! Lets do it.”
“So wat do u need?”
“Need a stick and ropes.”
“Where do we get ‘em?”
“Somewhere in the house.”
“Well…who’ll get up ‘n get ‘em?”
[silence]
“Lets ask titters”
“Yo! Bro…you gotta do something for us”
“Yea? Wat?”
“We need a stick and ropes”
“No way. Am too tired to go ‘n look”
“Well…in that case…may be we can do without. The thing is…we want to do a bird on you”
“Hah?”
“Yeah…u c, we r bored and we really don’t feel like getting up and you are tired too.”
“Hah???”
“Well…may be we can do without the gadgets u know…just stand there and do the bird thing and we’ll pull yr pants down.”
“Fuck u guys. I’m goin to sleep”

Remembrance

Didn’t go to work the other day. It was a good day, - cloudy and all; saw no point in wasting it. Went for a long rickshaws ride all the way from Dhanmondi to press club (switched rickshaws near Eskatan). Just like the old times! Only now I didn’t have to worry about how much money is left in the pocket. Thought about popping inside the painting gallery for a second then thought better of it. My brother came along and didn’t want him to regret it too much. The Muktijodhdha Jadughar (Martyrs Museum) was near by and its been a while since I’ve been there last. So figured we might as well pay it a visit.

I liked it before and I liked it now. Its one of those old two story houses that makes you feel good. There is a café in the courtyard in the back where people can sit and drink tea and reflect for a while.

As I made my way from room to room, looking at pictures, historical documents, fire arms and personal belongings of the dead, I tried to picture those chaotic times when the hopes and dreams of all became one. The time that called upon common men to make a stand and fight to the death. I stopped before the pictures of the heroes of the war, - the leaders who stood strong against all odds and came up victorious. Then I thought about how in the next ten years after the war many of them met violent deaths in the hands of their brothers in arms. What went wrong?

Looked into the eyes of the people in the pictures and wondered what kind of people they were. I tried to feel these men who were driven to become rebels and forced to fight an unjust war. I stood before the picture of Rumi. I never read the book by his mother Jahanara Imam that tells his story. I just saw a picture of a handsome young man who fought and died for his country long before my time. The picture is incredibly alive – tells a lot about the man in it. How can it all be for nothing?

Saw the bones of the dead, piled up inside glass boxes. Femurs on the bottom shelf, ribs, backbones and skulls on top. I looked into the hollow cavities of the skulls and thought about the events they witnessed. Did they take everything for granted like I do? Can they see us now?

Six million Jews, three million Bengalis, God knows how many Iraqis – shit happens. When its happens to us we run for it. When it happens somewhere else, we talk about it at tea parties. (May be one’d go, “Yea I know Hitler killed too many people and all but u gotta hand it to him…He knew what he was doing…If they’d perfected v2 on time, or didn’t have to go to Africa to help those stupid Italians or if the Japs dint step on US tail…you dunno what coulda happened. Hmm.”. At this stage his eye have gotten dreamy and all and he is feeling pretty good about himself.) China, the peoples republic and the US, the land of the free, stood by the military rulers of Pakistan and found the 71 genocide acceptable. Don’t get me wrong; am not accusing people. At the end of the day it is not the people, but the politics that justifies the means.

Sunday, May 28, 2006

Offerings

I can offer but little
But I offer it all –

The decaying body, battered and bruised,
Scars of defeat from battles unworthy,
The recurring dreams, dreadfully black and white,
Dreams devoid of reason, meaning or hope,
The blackened heart, faintly beating,
Freezing fast, going numb, dying,
The crocked mouth and wooden tongue,
Spitting feeble words; incoherent, inconsequential,
Can neither offer you the wine of life,
Nor the blissful poison of the night.

Yet, there are bits and pieces stashed away,
And some nights, the trapdoors give way,
And waves come rushing in, drowning all,
Light bearing row boats take the river of memories,
Candles are lit in the secret chambers of the heart,
And the dreams are no more black and white.
And the things that I write, on that night,
Sometimes strikes a cord or two.

That’s all I’ve got
And I give ‘em all to you.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

Show me a sign

Show me a sign.

[the Earth shakes, buildings tumble, fish fall from trees, sheep stops bleeting. The ground breaks open and a neon sign emerges with the letters U W O blinking on it in red and white and a message saying 'Drink plenty of maple syrup']

Sigh! If only there was a sign...

Friday, May 26, 2006

weatherman's log

Its been a good day.

- woke up to find it cloudy - always a good sign. Went back to sleep.
- woke up again around 12. Found the boys in the living room. They just woke up and was already at it; the older two was beating up the youngest. Mom told me to put an end to it. I of course did not pay any attention to her.
- Proton came in while we were having breakfast. We were supposed to go with him to look at cars. We overslept. He got even easily enough; Told us he bought the car and it was waiting down staris. We hurried down the stairs and found him laughing his ass off when we came up again. To think they call him the good one in the bunch!
- Lost 3 games of 29 (a simplified local version of bridge played with half the deck) in a row. Add to that another two at night. Jesus!
- Rudra (a friend) came in at around 4. Went for pizza in the afternoon.
- Walked to Dhaka Uni campus in the rain. Stopped at the pet shops on the way. Almost bought a pair of baby bunnies. Not the white ones. These were brown with white patches on their chest; the cutest little things. One was all balled up trying to wipe something from its nose with its hands(?). Then we got to thinking who'd be feeding them, cleaning poo and all and decided to continue the walk, without bunnies.
- Had a good shower. Felt nice. Was soaking wet by the time we reached DU. Had tea at the tea stall opposite the library.
- Walked to the bus stop. All 5 of us agreed the chick walking up front has good bone structure. She was carrying an umbrella. We had a bet if it'd flip. It dint. Lost 10 bucks.
- Took the bus back to Proton's place. Played some more. The loosing streak continued.
- Putul apu's kid, our only nephew is getting cuter everyday. He has black bidi eyes and the cutest toes. I am not good with kids. So tried to look busy with the computer. But putul apu wont have it. Made us all take pictures with him.
- Came back home around 11. Got wet again. Wrote a crap poem. Spoiled the day.

Blooper: Called Anon a 'chu*m*****' (an F-word) in front of ma.

Mental note to myself: Dont try to write poetry. Ever!

Tuesday, May 23, 2006

MSN SUCKS

Something happenned today which brought back a lot of old memories. By 'old' I mean really old. Like 20 years old! Yep, talking bout childhood stuff. I dunno if you'd believe it but I used to be a pretty good kid. [Sounds from a henhouse on fire]

Ok! ok!! Keep your gutts in people. Dont go yack yacking all of it all too soon. Theres more. Hmm...yeah the thing is if your kids are half as nice as I used to be you'd be the luckiest parent ever. [Yea, yea, I'm funny. I know...now just shut your hole and lemme finish.]

Yea I know you guys dont come here to listen to me brag bout my childhood self. And yea I know the title says something else. I'll get to the point. Well...I was just lyin there after watchin a 2nd class, Indiana Jones imitation, lousy ass, crap movie and thinkin bout all sorts of childhood stuff...how I started out..and where I got to...and where I'm going...and what might have been, for better or worse and all that crap. Been thinking bout where I'm supposed to be...how, everyday, more and more tricks are becoming harder to pull, how its taking a lot more time to figure things out,...the way things from a few years back seems to be scenes from impossible dreams, you know...the whole deal. You all think like that once in a while. Dont u? U dont? Good for you! Teach me the trick. WILL YA? Hmm. Now whats all this got to do with MSN? Simple - Its hot, I'm tired and too darn pissed off to be thinking about crap for too long. Dint feel like sitting through another movie so figured I'd go online and chat for a while and take my mind off of things. Whaddu know! I just formatted the PC today so, there is no msn. Wait, wait...I usually keep an installer as a back up. But what the fuck!! Its an old version!!

The ones who arent getting whats all the fuss is about, I use a dial up which, in its best behavior, goes like 1kbps/sec. So dloading a new msngr is a BIG deal. You fortunate folks with your fancy net connections will never understand it. Never! Never!! Never!!! [wailing monkeys]

Anyway...somehow I get it over with. I got msn. I install it. Now just wait 3/4 mins to sign in and voila! The fuck! Its asking me if I want it to retrieve info from my provider!! The shitty thing was doing this shit while I was sitting and waiting and panting like a dog and sweating like a pig! u shittin me??

Theres more! I type in an URL on the address bar, clearly, and ask the stupid IE to just get me there. What does it do? The smartipant decides to do an msn search!! OOO! How nice!! Now who the fuck asked it to? Why is it wastin ma god damned bandwidth and time like dat? A freaking page takes about 5 mins to dload yo! That does it! I'm going Firefox!

The ones who dont get it please feel free to drop dead. I'm going to sleep.

Sunday, May 21, 2006

Snaps and sketches

Havnt brought back much this time around from the trip. It was pretty short and most of it was spent on running around; two nights on the boat and 9 hours on the bus. Add to that the lunch hours and nap times. Aint much left of the 48 hours. Is there? There have been moments. Here are a few –

Masterpiece in the sky

[All the good boats were taken by the time we got there. The boat we took stank al over. It stank so much that we preferred staying inside the cabin over sitting outside and enjoying the river wind. Heaven took pity on us and decided to intervene. They had to switch off the power for ten minutes. We suddenly realized it was a moonlit night on the river. We got out of the cabin and moved to the front deck.]

The moon came out of the veil of dark clouds and shown its full face. It was more than just pretty. There was a solemnity about it that I haven’t quite noticed before. The adorning clouds seemed to fall into the trance and formed a halo around it’s head; the layers had all sorts of shades, - everything between faint gold, silver, black and blue. They twisted and curled up around each other. There was a profound religious feel about the scene; I thought it’d look great on a church wall. Hold your gaze for long enough and you can make out the face of Christ on the moon. The winged angels are already on the layers of clouds.

[I guess scenes like these sometimes have a very peculiar effect on common men. I suddenly felt a rush of inspiration to talk about the river, how it’s waves have been flowing to the sea for ages and how they have been coming down from the icy peaks of the mountains, how mountains came to be when Earth’s face got wrinkled while cooling down, and then how water would evaporate from the seas, and get iced on the peaks of the mountains again, and how these elements are all just following the natural laws of physics and men, too small an entity before any one of them, have loved, admired, studied and defied them all and how some of it goes beyond the laws of physics and all sorts of shit. You can imagine the look on my cousin’s face after sitting through a lecture like that. I am not sure if it was this perplexed look on his face or the sprint of obscenity from a fellow passenger in a near by cabin that snapped me back to consciousness. I’m sorry to disappoint you but his ‘words of affection’ were not in fact, directed to me (which would be just as appropriate) but to a person (God have mercy on his soul) he had met the previous day in a cultural gathering. I must say I found it very refreshing.]

A night to remember

[It had been raining all evening. We ventured out a couple of times in the rain but never made more than 500 yards through the slippery paste on the road. Only made the hotel floor messy each time. It wasn’t until very late at night that we made it to the beach. It was well worth the wait.]

We heard the music well before we saw the sands. An orchestra of Sarinda, Khol and Mandira (instruments used in folk music). Mixed with the sound of the waves the songs gave off a somewhat unearthly resonance that put you into trance immediately. We sat down on the empty beach chairs a little away from the group of musicians. It was windy but the direction was right and we could hear the notes clearly from where we were sitting. It was a full moon and a full tide. The sky was a translucent blue which met the gray sea on the horizon. The waves came splashing white on the white white sands and all of it bathed in moonlight. With all these going on before the eyes, and the wind dancing around like crazy and the music playing in your mind, you find yourself gasping for breath. Your feel your heart chocking, twisting, tearing inside your chest, ready to burst out and shoot up in the sky at any moment. You don’t know what to call this but know that you should go with it while it lasts. You take off your glasses and the frosty view suddenly seems to make sense more than ever. Your body moves with the music without you knowing it. Tears roll down your face; you know not for what. You feel your soul lifting you up, carrying you over the waves and beyond the horizons, beyond the moon, across the skies and back. In that fleeting moment you see its face – the face of the immortal trapped inside your mortal being.

Friday, May 19, 2006

Weather Forecast

It is going to be very, very, very dry the next few weeks.

The Mule

I admire the mule
It’s earnest dedication at work.
No time wasted on feeble words,
No breath wasted on futile dispute.
No load too heavy
- The idea employee.

I envy the mule
Its naïve indifference
To things nice and things grotesque.
Never distracted by thoughts,
Never moved by emotions,
- The beast God disowns.

I pity the mule
It’s ever-yielding being.
It’s sacrifice of no consequence,
Its lack of grievance,
It pains me to see, that beast in me
- The beast not meant to be.

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

writing on paper

Writing on paper again, without the help of copy/paste, spellchecker and pretty characters. But am having a lot more fun.

When I was younger and knew even less words I used to have a lot of fun. Had to make do with whatever was there and they were still good for I loved them all. Now, with time, my ‘mastery over words’ but barely improved. Only the preoccupation with fancy words have added the stink of rat in everything I write.

But am here now, trying to let the pen loose and go with the flow.

it

Don’t ask me to label it,
For I do not have a name for it.
But I can assure you its there.
And with a judge and jury present here
I can swear it on my honor,
Or whatever is left there.

So what am I to do about it?
I’ll ask the cigarette I just lit.
“Nothing doing; just press DELETE.
Go in any deeper – you wont make it.”
May God bless you;
You wise emitter of smoke…

Monday, May 08, 2006

Suppose one day

Suppose one day
Come what may
I’d write that one song
And sing it all wrong
Over and over
All day long!

Suppose on that day
I’m gonna say
Goodbye to the lies
And look into yr eyes
And tell you to go fuck yrself
To get out of ma skies!

Suppose that day is today
And theres no other way,
So I’d dress real nice,
And have champagne on ice
Then for one last time
We’d roll the dice!

Since this wonderful day,
Gotta come somday,
Why make such a fuss?
Why not miss the bus?
Before the gig is up
Why not push the luck?

Sunday, May 07, 2006

boring shit

I’ve been thinking bout stuff and they got me real frustrated. My frustration is two folds. You will find the first fold a trifle juvenile. Its quite silly actually. Well…might as well blurt it out. I cant figure out a thing for myself that someone else hasn’t written about already.

DUH! Weatheman’s no rocket scientist. So what else is new! - I KNOW! So lay off of it people! I am not talking about that. I am not talking about figuring out how a TV works or how you dope silicon chips to make semi conductors and stuff. I am talking about simple things you see, like what makes people tick, and what happens when they tick - meaning of life and all that crap. Ok? Hmm…so its that. I am mad that I cant feel, or sense or figure out a thing that somebody hasn’t explored already and written about more beautifully than I ever could.

Of course I didn’t just figure it out! I figured it out long time back the day I wanted to kick Robi Thakur off of the roof. There I was, standing on a perfectly nice roof on a perfectly nice evening with a perfectly nice heartache – something really new and painfully bitter and wonderfully dreadful – something truly unique that only I was privileged with and what do you know! - The old guy stole my exact thoughts and put them in a book a hundred years ago! Gotta hate the guy!

Anyway so that’s the thing. I’d been thinking about how humankind is the blend of day and night and that is what makes them better than angels and demons and that they don’t need to work too hard to go either way cause the best is actually in the middle and stuff and everything seem to fall in place along that line and was feeling pretty good about it too. Wasted a whole hour at work trying to put the above nonsense in words and whaddu know! It just had to be in the darn book I’m reading!

“that I belong with the strong-hearted who walk narrow and thorny paths where flowers are also to be found, amidst howling wolves – and singing nightingales.” [Gibran, Thoughts and Meditation]

There you have it in two lines and I wrote like 20 lines and they still didn’t mean nothing. This sucks! Well…still I guess I can console myself by saying that the age old truths, however simple and clear, tends to be misunderstood and misplaced by men and there is but no harm in repeating them. (Or taking a shot at it at least.) I can live with that.

And then the 2nd fold hits me and gets me down again. How does it happen when its all so simple! Why does men always discard the most obvious, simplistic solutions to go for a downright stupid one, which needless to say, is a lot more complicated? And why on Earth do they have to keep repeating it in regular intervals when history makes it clear that they aren’t good for anybody! Ok let me make it simple - take racism for instance. Here you see a thing that you call a man. It has two legs, two hands, eyes, ears, head and everything. Hey! It even smiles when you feed it, cries when you beat it and dies if you kill it! Just like you! But wait a minute, look at its skin! Its too white, or too black or eww! – Its brown! Now there’s a good enough reason to hate it!

Ok, another one. Most people thinks there is a God, and God is just, created all things, created all men to be equal, beat the crap out of the devil and kicked it out for bullying people, wants all men to be good, wants peace, wants everyone to be happy. Say, it seems everyone has got the same message from the lord! Hallelujah! Lets just all get down and do what he wants. But wait just a freaking minute! NO! Its not the same at all! His God asked him to face East and mine wants me to face North! Your God lets you eat pork and mine wants me to eat chicken! Her God loves vanilla and his one goes for chocolate! Now there’s a good reason to kill each other! But first, lets kill the kids! That’s a hell lot of fun!

Saturday, May 06, 2006

Blackout

Blackout took the neighborhood a little after midnight. All electrical noises silenced at once. Once the momentary confusion subsides, and the eyes and ears get accustomed to the night, the mind begins to see, feel and sense things that are ordinarily overlapped by coarser ones.

First to be felt is silence. Gradually you begin to hear the gurgling of insects, the occasional name calling of house lizards, the flapping of wings of little bats and the squeaking of rodents. Add to that the monotonous tingling of a wind chime in one of the balconies up front; you’ll never know which one. At first they all seem random but slowly a pattern begins to emerge and they all fade into the background.

I can’t see the moon but there is moonlight. You can make out the outlines of trees, lampposts, telephone wires and TV cables silhouetted against the grayish forms of the buildings where people have retired for the night. There is no light in the windows to distort the landscape. The black of the night, the silver of the moon, the faint blue of the sky came together to form the perfect shades for the forms you see and the patterns in your thoughts.

A gust of wind makes its way from the direction of the road to the west. You can hear it coming through the alley moving dirt, dust and debris on its way. You can hear it come through the iron gates and flooding the walkways. The trees suddenly wake up and greet the wind. Some of the older leaves let go of the branches they clung onto for so long and goes with the wind. The younger leaves wave them goodbye. No tears shed, no long faces, no regrets. The wind moves to the east.

Silence fell for one brief moment before its broken by the sound of footprints. They are followed by the booming voice of the night watchman at the east gate – “ANYBODY THERE?”. “I AM HERE” – came the response from the west gate. Not annoying whistles, not scratching noise in electronic devices, not clang of metal on metal but human voices speaking words, communicating with and reassuring one another and many others fast asleep, wide awake or in a state in between.

May be this is an event of no consequence. Or may be these voices have just created a ripple in the night air and the wind will carry it away on her journey. May be, years later, in a different place, someone will stand under the night sky and lend his ears to the west wind. May be, just may be, if he listens for long enough, he will hear the voices calling; reassuring each other and myriad others.

You hear footsteps on the walkway that never bears footprints. You look towards the westward sky to look for your stars. A whisper is heard – “ANYBOY THERE?”

Speaking my mind

“I grieve to hear the language of the spirits prattled by the tongues of the ignorant. It slays my soul to see the wine of the muses flow over the pens of the pretenders.” [*]

Flea of dogs, freeloading parasites, slimy maggots – you who have armed yourselves with platinum tipped pens, trendy attires and the pretentious air of sophistication, do you feel the scorn of the poet in the above words? I think not. For you and your kind have not the heart to feel nor the faculty of mind to grasp the meanings of those words which have been told and retold, written and rewritten, in the pages of the books you industriously collect to decorate your living rooms. You learnt the words by heart but a dead heart that would forever fail to nourish the blood with the breath of life and truth in those words.

You are the sons of ‘Gabbers’. You take great pains to polish your speeches and choose your words carefully to impress others like you in society tea parties. You speak eloquently of things that are either of no consequence or of things that are, were, and will forever be out of your reach. How dare you frown upon the honest seekers of truth? How dare you question their words? They would rather go with obscenity than speak your language.

I am sorry my bottom feeding friends. I should not have been so harsh on you. After all spirits of the poets ask us to treat lowliness with kindliness. You are not to be loathed but pitied. You have been born to a soulless, truth less, worthless life, which will just go on, feed, procreate, perish and be forgotten. Your fickle self and feeble words will fulfill but one purpose – produce first-rate poo paper for your rich patrons for whom you so aggressively abused, mercilessly mutilated and shamelessly falsified the divine verses spoken by the rag-clad bearers of truth. Of course, in brief moments of clarity you understand that it is the blessed soul of the enlightened and not your well groomed behinds that God holds dear and your attempts to get even is but futile. May the lord take mercy on your souls.

Who am I to raise my voice against you? I am but one of many ‘oppressed by the clang of steel and clamor of factories.’ My words are as ‘heavy as freight trains and are as annoying as steam whistles’. It is true that like you I too have sold my soul on numerous occasions. Flashes of gold have blinded my eyes once too often. Never the less I say it with pride that every gold penny I take from the treasure chest of temptations, I put back with interest and the interest is paid in blood. Like many I was born with a wooden tongue and a soulless heart. But the spirits spoke to me and made me drink from ‘the cup of poetry that dwells in the soul’. It has given me the eyes to see the ‘fake messiahs’ in your midst; and that my friend gives me the right to stand here today and speak my mind.

“And you, the real poets, forgive us. We belong in the New World where men run after worldly goods; and poetry, too is a commodity.” [*]

[Kahlil Gibran, Thoughts and Meditations]