Singing in the Rain (1952)

Not into musicals that much. But sure wouldn't much watching more like these. Pity,...they just don't make 'em like they used to.

LISA NOVA

I dig this chick! She's like the modern day Monty Python. Her videos happen to be one of the most viewed stuff on YouTube (7 mil hits in 6 months in the beginning of 2007). Never mind all that. Check her out yourself.

Heres some of the stuff I liked:

TWITTER WHORE
sxephil and HotForWords
Behind the Scenes-Pirates of the Caribbean
WILD DREAM!!!

World builder

Happy a hundredfold...

"Happy a hundredfold, whoever
can lean on faith, who can dismiss
cold reason, sleep in sensual welter
like a drunk traveller in a shelter,
or, sweeter, like a butterfly
in flowers of spring it's drinking dry:
but piteous he, the all-foreseeing,
the sober head, detesting each
human reaction, every speech
in the expression of its being,
whose heart experience has cooled
and saved from being charmed or fooled!"

- Pushkin, Eugene Onegin (tr.Ch.Johnston)

"No, sirs, the ode's the thing..."

``oh, quit your stale, your tedious quacking,
and your alas-ing and alack-ing
about what's buried in the past:
sing about something else at last!''
All right, you want the resurrection
of trumpet, dagger, mask and sword,
and dead ideas from that old hoard,
all brought to life at your direction.
Not so? ``No, sirs, the ode's the thing,
that's the refrain that you should sing,

- A.S.Pushkin. Eugene Onegin (tr.Ch.Johnston)

idle again...

“Idle again by dedication,
oppressed by emptiness of soul,
he strove to achieve the appropriation
of other’s thought – a splendid goal;
with shelves of books deployed for action,
he read, and read – no satisfaction:
here’s boredom, madness or pretence,
here there’s no conscience, here no sense;
they’re all chained up in different fetters,
the ancients have gone stiff and cold,
the moderns rage against the old.
He’d given up girls – now gave up letters”

Pushkin, Eugene Onegin and Other Poems

Got internet, finally

This is why I want to live in NY for a couple of years...

2009

What do you expect on a new year’s eve? Well, I guess you don’t really expect much. A year has gone by, things have happened and you managed to get by okay and now, you just want to spend a few fun hours with your friends, enjoying a few drinks and laughs. And when the countdown is on, and the new year finally arrives, all you really hope for is a good start.

Didn’t have a great start this time. My fault entirely. Bluntly put, I was a mess. Drank a bit too much and things got a little hazy around the end. Somewhere in between I met a guy from Belgium, a French couple (they were just friends and the guy was obviously head over in hills in love with the chick) and a couple of American chicks I tried to fix up with Christopher (the Belgian guy). Doesn’t sound too bad. Ha? Well it wasn’t too good. If it hadn’t been for Mohsen, my corridor buddy, it woulda been a hell lot worse. If he didn’t stay on, and bring me back to home, I woulda been lying cold on the streets or get picked up by the police or something.

I threw up on myself several times on the night bus. (I tried to “do it with dignity” in that I tried to be silent and retreated to a dark corner and made sure its all on my own cloths but who am I kiddin anyway!) It’s a good thing I almost passed out so I didn’t really see if anybody took notice. The walk was dreadful. Especially so cause I twisted my ankle and lost my scarf and it was freaking cold out there. I somehow got home and threw my cloths into the washing machine and hit the bed.

I woke up a couple of hours later but couldn’t get up. I was still very dizzy and felt very weak. Had a bad headache and when I tried to stand up, my ankle hurt like hell. I hadn’t eaten well in a long while and I didn’t feel like cooking. I looked, smelt and felt like shit.

So how was my start? Its weird but now that I think about it, I think it was pretty good. Luck favored me in more than one way last night. In the morning I found my new bus card and cigarettes lying on the cleaning room floor. Its lucky that I just lost one scarf and not the bus card; that would have been terrible. A twisted ankle is much better than a broken one and last but not the least, I was damned lucky to have Mohsen baby sitting me. I am not used to being taken care of this way. Yep! The way I see it, I’ve made an ass out of myself and was lucky enough to get away with it and now a days, I ought to be thankful for all the luck I can get. Good start. Happy new year!

placebo

Well, it can’t wait no longer. God knows I’ve been doing my best to get away from it. Been putting it off, dodging them all – the voices in the head, the dancing snow flakes in the air, the bitter cold rain, the occasional sunlight, the morning window and the whispers at nights, all of it. Somehow managed to get by and put myself to sleep and get away but never really got away in the end. It’s a disease of sort. Don’t know why I got it but I know that there is no cure.

This is a thing that I wont ever loose, won’t ever get over, won’t ever be rid off. It will always find me, every time a little bit more off guarded, a little more unprepared, a little less in control. And won’t ever fully learn to live with it. Can’t ever master it; it’ll master me instead. And it will keep coming. I got no choice but to obey (Shoulda been the other way round. Eh?). So there, no use trying to put them on a leash so I will just let them run free.

First there the man. The sickly, worm eaten, hollow shell of a man. Then that all changes, the man changes, he becomes, evolves into something better, stronger, more perfect. A shadow keeps turning up around the bends…that’s him, that is more than him and that will never be him and it all starts to come together. He is becoming…

Then somewhere a dam breaks and theres a flood of moonlight, night wind, daylight, poison gas, alcohol, smoke, memories, memoirs, obituaries, poems, stories, street signs, highways, landscapes, pictures, dreams…words…words…

The girl is the orange dress with big beautiful eyes…. Her face lit up with the light of a thousand stars… Her lips slightly partnet…eager…anticipating…waiting…Her body slowly melts…

A young man standing on a village path, looking in wonder and amazement, - there is beauty everywhere…all around…and then the night sets in

The boy wakes up and sees it raining outside the window,…raindrops humming on the CI sheet roof, the smell of wet earth and smell of freshly baked bread…he goes back to sleep…

one of those nights…

You know, its amazing how you can make a mistake and kick yourself about it and then you tell yourself that you cann’t really make that mistake ever again in your life and then when the time comes, you just go ahead and do it all over again. It doesn’t really end there, you continue to go on that way for the rest of your miserable life. Oh heck, I’ll just tell you the whole story.

Lately, I’ve been hitting the books real hard, finishing one assignment after the other. I’ve been a good boy you see, not indulging myself with little pleasures, watching my money, going to bed in time…yep! Its all true. But how long can you actually carry that act on anyway? So after two weeks of hardship, I decided that its time for a little time out. So, I got a hand in due – FUCK that I’m going to that party and I’m gonna get myself good and drunk.

So I kept my end. I went, I drank and I was feeling fucking good. Met some new people too, like V – the Italian girl (a hottie no less) then that Swedish girl and the two guys going after her. And then there was the Lebanese guy at the hot dog counter. We had a very brief talk about Kahlil Gibran. It was a pretty good night. By the time we missed the last train, I had downed god knows how many and at the top of my game.

Now heres the real part. On our way back, in the bus, I was talking crap with the Raphael and Guillaume as usual. Raph had a small crush on a Chinese chick and we were sort of making a 3rd rated soap outta it. Anyhow, none of us really noticed when this Swedish chick came over and sat next to me. I said something to Raphael and that somehow made her laugh. (I’d laugh too if I was sober and heard a guy shitting on like that). So then I look at her and ..wooow! She says she is sorry, she shouldn’t have listened in and so on. I tell her not to worry, she is more than welcome if she wants to join in the soap opera and then God knows how, it was just the two of us talking away about all sorts of crap there is, she could tell it was red wine and I could tell that she is 23 and then we were singing crystal ship and feast of friends and what not, together. A Jim Morrison fan as it turns out. She told me how she found his biography on a park bench a few days back and how she misses the sun in the winter and I asked her about her cute little nose ring (honest to god, this is the first time I liked those on someone). And just like that the time went by and then she grew restless. She kept on telling me that she needs to get off soon. She said that about 3 times before it got through to this peanut brain of mine. I asked for her number in the last moment and heck! My phone isn’t working. She is going like “come on! Hurry up!” and I don’t have a clue. Guillaume, got his cell out and gave it to her. She typed her number in just in time before she got out.

So its all good. Eh? NOT REALLY! It turns out in the hurry, she left out a digit or something! Messages don’t go through!

She was pretty, and neat, and kind and when she talked, you could tell there is a brain behind those pretty little eyes.

And by the way, I don’t remember her name. I remember the Italian chick’s name, but I don’t remember the important one. Beshhhh…

Guillaume seemed actually more devastated than me. He was trying to console me all the way through the ice and cold and extreme bladder pressure…I didn’t know what to feel really, there was the red wine in the system, the snowy road, her voice in my head…just too many things to process.

One of these days…one of these nights…sigh…

Strong Mercy

My desires are many and my cry is pitiful,
but ever didst thou save me by hard refusals;
and this strong mercy has been wrought into my life through and through.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of the simple,
great gifts that thou gavest to me unasked---this sky and the light, this body and the
life and the mind---saving me from perils of overmuch desire.

There are times when I languidly linger
and times when I awaken and hurry in search of my goal;
but cruelly thou hidest thyself from before me.

Day by day thou art making me worthy of thy full acceptance by
refusing me ever and anon, saving me from perils of weak, uncertain desire.

[from Gitanjali (Song Offersings) by Rabindranath Tagore]

Bittersweet

(for the real “homicidal nanny”)

I have forgotten you, everything about you

That adorable li’l face,- picture perfect innocence,
hiding all trace
of the bitter cruelty within.
Those beautiful sad eyes, gazing at distant skies,
would never fail to disguise
the madness lurking behind.
And those pink perfect lips, (ones I still miss
and God! Could they kiss!)
Would never show the serpent tongue.

I’ve forgotten them all.

And its been a while as well
In this cold, cold hell
Been enough and more - anybody’d tell
So then the mention of your name
Should not ring a bell.

Then why show up now?
Why? All these years later, here, now?
And why should I even allow
You
(to waltz) back into my life
With your fangs and your claws
and your claws and your knife
and slow poison my mind
and then stab me from behind
again!
Why You!
who’d start off with the kisses
then fill my world with hisses
then cut me up in pieces
(and feed ‘em to the fishes)
for the joke of it
again!

And you think I’d let you?
Let you do all that? All over again? Really??
Am I that crazy? Really??
Well actually…

Autumn night

Autumn night. Light drizzle, so light that you barely notice it without the light at the door, light meeting the droplets for just a fraction of a second before they come down and rest on the gravels laid out on the path way, much like the way people come in touch with people in busses, trains, poker tables and dinner parties as they go about their day to day comings and goings. Up ahead you see the line of the forest and the thick shadow they cast on the field and then you see the thin strip of moonlight making a clearing in the dark and then you see the barely visible outline of a man, on the moonlit path, obscured by the drizzle and the moonlight and the forest shadow – an outline, clearly out of place, yet strangely befitting with the surreal backdrop. And you get to thinking if you know it from some place, if you’ve just casually passed it by on your way, or seen it standing outside your window, in a dream, or found it walking alongside you on your way back home.

And you get to thinking what it is doing here, on this particular autumn night, on this night with soft moonlight and light drizzle. Then again, where would it if not here?

Think about all the things that were done right and came to nothing. Think about all the wrongs that got you here, now, nowhere at all. Think about the night walks through the city streets, village paths and lonely beeches. Think about the hands shaken, loves made, promises broken and faces forgotten. And then think how little is actually ever forgotten. Think about all the lines, filling up the pages, crowding the mind and clouding the memories. And then think how much of it was actually remembered.

You were not supposed to be here tonight but then again, where would you be? There were so many doors open and so many paths waiting and so many voices calling but then again, were there ever any? There is but one way you could have taken. There is but one place you could have been, tonight.

So that’s what you are, a faint shadow of a man, on a moonlit autumn night, caught between the dark gloom of the forest up ahead and the door closed behind. And you are right where you were supposed to be.

yellow flowers

1st day of the weekend – My 1st ever Laundry Day! Went out the night before, had a few beers and woke up late, - just like back home. Anyhow, so I put the cloths into the machine and I had nothing to do for the rest of the day so decided to go for a walk.

Within a few minutes I saw it. A solitary yellow flower by the path way, prominent againts the green all around, standing and moving slightly with the gentle breeze, standing and looking at me. It was nothing fancy really, just your regular variety yellow flower that grows everywhere on their own and live without a care in the world. Nothing fancy about it at all and I am not into flowers anyway. But I dunno, there was something about it that made me take notice...there was something about it that made me smile.

Like I said I'm no flower guy but I stopped and stayed a while, and the craziest thing, it felt as if it was saying things to me. I mean, not in words it was not but I was getting! I cann't say what it was but I was getting it all right and I followed on. I moved up the path and surely enough, I found more of them, as I knew I would, and they led me to a wooden staircase leading down to an openning in the woods. I have been wanting to explore the woods since I arrived but never got around to doing it and now the flowers have taken me here. I took the path and went in and it was amazing! Its autumn and the leaves have just started to yellow and moss grew around the old trees and on the stones that came out in places and it was mysterious and slilent and beatiful all at once. Doesnt sound like much but it was something for me. I've seen this wood many times. I have imagined and dreamt about it over and over again for I don't know how long and now there it was. I followed the yellow flowers and surely enough they kept me on the better paths, - ones that weren't littered with plastic bottles, old cds, paper napkins and what not. They made sure the garbage don't come in and spoil my dream.

Later in the Autumn, the leaves will turn red and there will be red and yellow and orange all over. I'll go back to the woods and live, yet another dream.

moving on

Be careful about what you wish for cause you just might get it. Am I regretting it? Not really. After all, this is what I wanted, this is what I knew it'd be. After so many years of whining and nagging and bitching about every little things around me, I am finally out. So there.

They all came to see me off – everybody was there and all of them meant it. Its a blessing to have a family like this. I miss them all terribly now.

BD said good bye the best way it could. It was raining mad – it started to rain the minute I got on the car, it rained all the way, up till the moment the plane took off. And it was just right. The smell of it, the sound of it, the feel of it on your skin is just right. It rains in Sweden as well but its just not the same. Its not as tender.

The journey lasted for ever, - about 19 hours in total. Had a tough time keeping the tears in check during the last bit of it, the flight from Heathrow to Arlanda. No matter how hard I tried to not think about the people back home, they just wont leave me alone. Everytime I thought about Ma the lump in my throad felt heavier. Never thought I'd miss the old lady so much!

Things looked bad at the hostle. Was already pretty down with the long journey, homesickness and the very expensive taxi ride. On top of it all I ended up in a very dirty room with paper bags stashed here and there, full of rotten things and spilling smelly liquids. The thought of taking the next available flight back to home came to mind more than once.

It wasnt that bad though. In fact, I was actually very lucky. The guy I asked for directions turned out to be a good hearted fellow from BD who greeted me in Bangla. He helped me with the bags and introduced me to the rest of the people at the hostle. As for the filthy room, it was a blessing that the people who left it like that (a couple of students from India no less) had already moved out.

The next day, Mashuk, the friendly BD guy, went out of his way to help me get a bus pass. I went to the university and got enrolled. Slowly I started to get used to the clean (way too clean) streets, pretty buildings, tall white people, timely busses and clockwork trains. My new room mate turned out to be a good natured man from Ethiopia who made the room tidy in no time. I also began to realize that living in the hostle has its perks – I got to meet a lot of people from different parts of the world whom I would never come across if I wasn't living there. And what'd you know! There are like hundreds of deers and rabbits living in the woods around the place. Not too bad. Eh?

Its still doesn't come close to home. I still miss everyone and things are still very expensive and I am stil an awful cook (can't even cook instant soup man!). But now I know a bit of the town, can make ham sandwiches, know a few faces, and have got tea.

Think Little dog is gonna be all right.

Blake

"To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour."
~ William Blake, Auguries of Innocence

"There was no doubt that this poor man was mad, but there is something in the madness of this man which interests me more than the sanity of Lord Byron and Walter Scott."
~ William Wordsworth

William Blake: What paintings of visions come
All Poems of William Blake

Poets of the Fall - Carnival of Rust

Paper Croft

What do you think she is made of? Yep, thats right!

The papercraft blog (http://paperkraft.blogspot.com) has a lot more like these.

Here is another one I really liked -

only way to leave

Pranab's site...never fails to amaze me. Bring back something everytime...

Daredevil

I wonder how many superheroes we actually meet everyday and pass by everyday without even knowing it.

The other day the company car was giving us a ride home after work. The traffic is really bad at those times and the car was getting stuck every now and then. During one of those spells I saw this man with a cane rushing towards my window. It took me while to realize that he was blind as he moved like a flash. I thought he was going to beg for money and my hand had already reached for my wallet. I was wrong. He just came and felt the car with his cane, stopped and quickly turned to the side and went around the back. He went around one more lane of cars the same way and got into a bus on the last lane. And no shitting, the whole thing took just one minute.

You had to be there to see it happen. It didn’t look like he was trying out a new thing. Seemed like he does it all the time. Taking on the mad Dhaka streets like that…you gotta be a true daredevil.