THE BOY.

lets start with a short story.

quite a long time ago, in the island of guadara, an unheard place in the midst of the great Pacific, there lived a boy. small and beautiful as the island, there seemed not a worry in the world troubling his innocent mind. embracing the warm summers and icy cold winters, with a music in his heart and a dance in each step, it was as if he was born out of the mighty Heavens, probably when God was in a jolly good mood...

smooth and easy was his world...happiness was unbound, and life couldn't be better. till one day he became curious. "what lies beyond the seas?"he asked himself. with not a soul to talk to (not that he was even aware of companionship), he could only ask so many questions to himself. and till today he could answer all. but this was different.what lies beyond the seas?how could he say?his world comprised of this small island. this was all he knew and all he needed to know...till today. 'cause now this indormitable desire of knowing the answer began to haunt him...in his sleeps, his nightly walks. the strong winds began to tempt him and lure him into the great Unknowns...unable to contain himself anymore, he finally set out in a pretty, little raft he had made for himself...in search of his answer. he finally set out to seek the unseekable, to know the unknowable...on an everlasting quest to feel the unquestionable Truth.

he still wanders in his pretty, little raft, braving the stroming seas and romancing the lost winds. he still seeks the unseekable and tries to know the unknowable...he still wants the Truth.

well, aren't we all? with a belief that refuses to die and hope that keeps the flame forever burning, aren't we all living the dream? the dream that is in truth the undying reality...

the boy lives on hope...that someday he will succeed in his quest. and so do we. its hope which beautifies the dream. the hope of a meaning.

after all, life is just a broken snatch of a vast dream lived by the Mighty One.

the demise...

A lazy, windy afternoon right after the 2.50 p.m. classes, at the green benches. And nothing better if accompanied by the occasional guitar strums and jhalmudi. That was an ESSENTIAL part of college for us and even though I missed my classes at times (in other words, bunked), I would never really miss out on the ‘green sessions’. You see, that was the elixir of our college life. Even the advent of a stupid ‘CCD’ could not mar the fun of green benches.

And then, we are not the only ones. Through the years these green benches had become such an inevitable part of Xavier’s – from random lazing hours to sweet guitar tunes to the tense, nail-biting wait for part 1 or part 2 results.

I guess the green benches had seen all, tears of joy and sorrow, ringing laughter and of course the mending and breaking of many a heart (it would have been gross injustice not to mention this).

To those like us, wishing to hold on to these cherished memories, a word of advice – do not go to college anymore. To see the way all those moments of our college-lives have been brought down to a mere pile of rubble is simply sad. The damage is done. As for the people in authority who sat through this, it’s just they never understood the pulse of Xavier’s and probably never will. They are too insensitive for that. The question is, why do the students have to suffer for that? And why does a tradition like ‘green benches’ have to be compromised with?

The students’ voice was never heard. Not even when we, the students, raise our voices against a crime like this. And so at the end of the day, we have to see our fond memories in a heap of bricks.

For all you know, in the coming years there might be a ‘barista’ instead of a canteen, keeping with the ‘times’.

it's all a game...

it takes time to understand this really simple thing...and sometimes, it can take a lifetime...in case the point is still vague, and i'm pretty sure it is, i'm talking about a fight...

a sort of an inner struggle, which everyone at some point or the other has to go through...just that sometimes, the struggle lasts a bit longer...when the long nights seem a bit longer...and you pray for the endless summers(not applicable to tropical, humid climate) because you feel the cold...how vastly strange and meaningless a life would be without any waving emotions...it's just that, there lies a smile in every drop of tear...just as happiness is a shadow of loss...its a world of paradoxes, and paradoxes make up this charmed circle...and it's paradoxes again, which make up you and me...

the cause of the struggle might vary to each heart..what matters is this tiring yet oddly treasured struggle...

and it is then, that we need to understand the simple truth...simple yet very powerful...you see, it's all just a game...and the victory is yours...play along...just play along all the way...

to Ma and Baba...

when someone loans you money, you can say, "Thank You".

when someone offers you a seat, you can again say, "Thank You".

when a traffic cop lets you off without a fine, you can keep saying, "Thank You".

to someone you owe everything to, you can't just say, "Thank You"...

(p.s. courtesy: an old archies advertisement.)

lonesome blues...

Exactly 3 months ago, on one fine morning, I decided that I had enough of it...ever since every morning I’ve been thinking thus. But the point is, does it matter? Completely beaten, tired of the same sick, stale thoughts...and most importantly, craving for something new...it’s like beating your head against the wall, until either of the two gives in...really, come to think of it, are we all condemned like Sisyphus? Till as mr.camus says, the ‘final why’ arises?

Yeah...I hang up my soul to the ceiling above me and try to have a conversation with it. Worth it? at times certainly...when you are too conked up to think rationally(now that can happen EVEN if you’re NOT drunk). It’s like, you let yourself being pinned down and let others rape you emotionally. Maybe this arises from a deep lack of self love. And then you want to put an end to all of this...but wait, not so fast...remember, condemned like Sisyphus? So you can’t. And you yet again keep beating your head against the wall, have absurd, crazy conversations with your soul dangling from the ceiling...that’s a scary thought...was kafka right when he said, “the only meaning of life is that it stops”...life to kafka, some say, was extremely complicated. Nah...life couldn’t be simpler to the dear man. Depressing maybe, but certainly not complicated.

Walking the same street again, and not feeling the same. Instead what you encounter is a bunch of terrorising memories(cherished at some point of time), snatching you away from reality each time you want to cling to it. For me, I don’t even try...they will succeed, they are the stronger ones...the only way I can fight back is to let them do their job, and not mess around with them too much. What’s the use? If someday, they decide to leave on their own, I’ll heave a sigh of relief...but aren’t we condemned forever? A mistaken dream-mistaken for reality...shreds of laughter lace the sky...some moments turned bitter...and the ultimate losing of self...maybe never to be regained again

And then, what made me write all this?

Lonesome Blues.
I fill up this page with some unwanted scenes,
The sparkling wine of music flows, though forever,
When the rains are here, I shall lie to the glory of my lover,
Whose love evergreen shall this mortal soul drink…
Tonight I draw upon the grave sweetness,
The fevered heart receives in shame and pain,
To the merrier moments I plead in vain
To stay, stay and drown these days…
If I were looking for a greater joy,
In the depth of this womb, dark and blind,
It was to end in a futile cry of the mind,
An effort to see through the Greater Ploy…
If I were to swim the strangest ocean,
And I were to sail away with the slow dreams,
Let me hold your hand to go beyond the smallest streams,
To feel the warmth, for the dawn of heaven…

I seek for no answer; is there none?
Tired eyes stare at the unexplained sun,
Of greater deeds lost and undone
In the charmed circle of lonesome blues…


-Siddhartha Chatterjee.

shadow of the storm...

Shadow of the Storm.

You know girl, there might be a way out of this,
And Sunday might be just the day you missed,
You know why, u never looked up and down and right...
And as you walk along the sea, it could‘ve been you and me,
But you know, you’re miles apart the light,
You’re lost beneath the skies, because you’re free...
The waves of life just touch you once
There’s no other way, no other chance
But you can try to change the road you take,
Or can’t you just change the smile you fake...
You know girl, the time is never really gone,
The seas are never calm, just a shadow of the storm
That’ll rage inside you, cause you never saw the bit that was torn...
And while the nights were long, this time it seemed a bit longer,
And the words are just a way, you see your world today,
But you know, these things could have been a bit better...
It’s just a dream, some dream gone wrong,
It’s just a moment which has taken too long,
It’s the time, I couldn’t set right,
The lights were too blinding and bright...
But girl, you’re way beyond this now,
You stole a life you’re living, don’t know how,
You know why, you kissed the winds with just a little doubt...
But girl, there might be an end to this,
And Sunday might be just the day you missed,
And the seas are never calm, just a shadow of the storm
Inside you...you’re lost beneath the skies because you’re free...

- Siddhartha Chatterjee.

the fighters...

Life was moving slowly, slow and steady...the weather had been good for the past couple of days. It even rained the other night, quenching the thirst of the not-so parched earth, cooling the nature and lighting up a fire in many hearts.

Happiness isn’t exactly the way I would describe it, but a general air of acceptance hung around. The usual mundane work, struggling against the self to sit with books, searching desperately for a bit of desire to go through them...yeah...that’s the way it was...when it struck...

Like the cold, depressing wind out of nowhere, it was as if a million dementors had been set free to feast on my soul and feasting they were...that’s how the news came...exams for more than a month...from the 10th of april till the 14th of may... what have we done to deserve this? A bunch of students like us, who never hurt a fly(figuratively)! The hangover of exams is bad enough, and then if it is for a month...I’d rather give up my soul before the ‘dementors’(read: examiners) can snatch it away...

Just that there’s another way of looking at the whole thing...fight back!! Like producing a patronus...and a whopping strong one at that. If you’re looking forward to break our spirits, and imprison our souls, we are the freedom fighters who’ll keep fighting for the freedom from the exam blues. And so party every time we take an exam(thank god for the long gaps in between). But come what may we won’t let this helluva one month get into us...we will NOT let the dementors suck our souls to satisfy their hunger.

UNITED WE STAND...DIVIDED WE FALL...