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Arts: 'Your Lifelong Prisoner' Liu Xiaobo's poem from p...

2011-11-12T22:40:00.000-08:00

Arts: 'Your Lifelong Prisoner' Liu Xiaobo's poem from p...: New book by the jailed dissident and Nobel peace prizewinner contains a moving tribute to his wife, the poet Liu Xia To Xia My dear, I'll ne...

'Your Lifelong Prisoner' Liu Xiaobo's poem from prison

New book by the jailed dissident and Nobel peace prizewinner contains a moving tribute to his wife, the poet Liu Xia

To Xia

My dear,
I'll never give up the struggle for freedom from the oppressors'
jail, but I'll be your willing prisoner for life.

I'm your lifelong prisoner, my love
I want to live in your dark insides
surviving on the dregs in your blood

inspired by the flow of your estrogen

I hear your constant heartbeat
drop by drop, like melted snow from a mountain stream
if I were a stubborn, million-year rock
you'd bore right through me
drop by drop

day and night

Inside you
I grope in the dark
and use the wine you've drunk
to write poems looking for you
I plead like a deaf man begging for sound
Let the dance of love intoxicate your body

I always feel
your lungs rise and fall when you smoke
in an amazing rhythm
you exhale my toxins
I inhale fresh air to nourish my soul

I'm your lifelong prisoner, my love
like a baby loath to be born
clinging to your warm uterus
you provide all my oxygen
all my serenity

A baby prisoner
in the depths of your being
unafraid of alcohol and nicotine
the poisons of your loneliness
I need your poisons
need them too much

Maybe as your prisoner
I'll never see the light of day
but I believe
darkness is my destiny
inside you
all is well

The glitter of the outside world
scares me
exhausts me
I focus on
your darkness
simple and impenetr! able

Reprinted by permission of Harvard University Press from No Enemies, No Hatred: Selected Essays and Poems by Xiaobo Liu. Copyright 2012 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College.

সোনা

2011-08-14T18:36:00.000-07:00

তুমিই আমার সবচেয়ে সেরা সবচেয়ে ভালো গল্প
তোমার জন্যে আজো রাখা জমানো প্রশ্ন-দ্বন্দ,
তোমার জন্যে সকালে কফি কিম্বা বিকেলে টি..
আজ ও পথ হাঁটি রে সোনা, আজ ও পথ হাঁটি..

তোমার গল্প লিখবো বলেই পেন কিনলাম সেদিন
তোমার চিন্তা মাথে নিয়ে হেঁটেছি রাত্রি-দিন,
বিকেলে আমার ভোরের ফুল, সকালে এসেছে সাঝেঁর ডাক
তোমার জন্য অপেক্ষা ভরা বৃষ্টি রাতের কাঁচের গ্লাস..

অনেক পদ্য অনেক গদ্য অনেক উপন্যাসের পর
একটা ছড়া লিখতে গিয়ে ধরা পড়লাম মুখের ভর
একটা গল্প শেষ হলো না সোনা এই গল্পটা বাকি
হতেই পারতো যেটা পুরস্কার, সেটা থেকে গেলো ফাকী..

আজো রাত গেলে পাশ ফিরে থাকি একটা আলোর খোঁজে
কেন সবুজ কমলা ধুকপুক কেন আওয়াজে শব্দ বোঝে..
এই হাজার মাইল ব্যবধান মেটানো যেত যদি
শেষ গল্প শেষ করার দম দেখাতো কবি...

Allow. Accept. Grow.

2011-07-24T18:54:00.000-07:00

A few risks, here and there, not all could be pre-calculated,
nor could all be doctor prescribed.. for most arbiters can
never gauge what drives an offender to go the last mile.
My offense would harm no one, but me, the one I can risk.

Let the path be as less traveled as it can be.
It can help to see as less debauchery for I mastered that art.
Some dives need a push, and then the flight can make
living worthwhile.

Worth is what we set for ourselves. Like brands, they're fleeting.
For life is only finite, and dreams are not, it's better to live
the latter within the first. Otherwise, it ends before they finish.

If you make one happy, you are doing a service. For two, almost a model.
..and then awaits martyrdom. Seeking limits in the sky is only way to soar.

You make one and then you take that.
The process makes you taller, it's the best steroid!
Allow. Accept. Grow.

Of dying passions and momentary truth!

2011-07-21T11:35:00.000-07:00

I can survive the chill but can't spare the thrill
that I smell when you smile, baby, still,
there's only so much that I could 'jure up..
that you light my sky and twinkle my stars.

I could go on, and on, but why,
where I can't see your figure move by,
and stroke the hair which fell out of line
in a perfected dream of my imperfect mind.

Back in the days when I saw you glow
and you used to make my gloomy days glow
When I could smell your perfume, but now
there's only so much that I'd let you know.

That if there's still hope, that reason's you
That can break a sailor's curse like a row
For rainbows are when your laughter breaks out.
I die in the moment, in my incarcerated ego.

Beyond

2011-07-17T01:22:00.000-07:00

Where there was still an ounce of pain
you blinked, never knowing beyond that
lied nirvana.

Where there was still a cacophony of dimes,
you bilked, never knowing the hidden treasure
thereafter.

When life gave your shytes to deal with
and you said you can't handle it,
you missed the trove.

Because what you let go comes back,
and what you hold back was never yours.

The Last Lecture- Randy Pausch

2011-04-20T13:00:00.000-07:00

What makes me unique?
Not why I have to suffer, but what I have to offer?
Bring out the elephant in the room.
Never make a decision until you have to.
Just because you’re in the driver’s seat, doesn’t mean you have to run people over.
Experience is what you get when you don’t get what you want.
Keep upping the bar of success.
Leaders don’t believe in no-win scenario.
The park is not closed at eight, it’s open until eight.
A Dutch uncle gives you honest advice and feedback.
People are more important than things.
The brick wall is there to stop people who don’t want it that badly. The brick wall is for other people.
Love will win out.
Not everything needs to be fixed.
No matter how bad things are, you can always make it worse.
Learn the meaning of sacrifice, and power of humility.
The truth does set you free.
Time must be explicitly manager, like money.
You can always change your plan, but only if you have one.
Develop a good filing system.
Rethink the telephone, use speaker while on hold, and utilize your wait time.
Delegate!
Take a break. Recharge your batteries.
Teachers’ goal should be to help student learn how to learn and judge themselves.
One’s as good a team player as the ease one’s team members find it to work with him to.
You don’t know how high the bar should be, and would only do a disservice by putting it anywhere.
Earnest is better than hip.
Raise the white flag, surrender may do you well than bad in the short span of life.
Respect the deals you make.
Don’t complain, just work harder. Complaining does not work as a strategy.
Treat the disease, not the symptom.
Don’t obsess over what people think.
Meet people properly, find things you have I common (sports weather fashion), try for optimal meeting condition, check egos at the door, praise each other and phrase alternatives as questions.
Look for the best in everybody.
Watch what they do, not what they say.
Dance with the one who brung you.
LUCK IS WHAT HAPPENES WHEN PREPARATIO MEETS OPPORTUNITY
Whether you think you can or can’t, you’re right!
Don’t focus on smaller issues while ignoring the major ones.
Be the first penguin. Start. That way you lead by example and gather your experience.
Loyalty is a two-way street.
If you’re not good at your current job, what’s the guarantee that you’ll be in a better one?
All you have is what you bring with you. Be prepared. Come prepared.
A bad apology is worse than NO apology: I did wrong; I feel bad; how can I make it better?
Tell the truth. You don’t get away with your lies if you think you do.
Keep the child in you alive. Smell your crayon, playing balls (baseball/rugby/cricket/soccer/tennis).
Customer service goes a long way which you can’t measure in an office room. Have a heart, everyone.
No job is beneath you.
Never give up. Tenacity works wonders just after when you think all’s lost. Take a boost when offered.
Be a communitarian. We’re better people when we’re connected to others.
Sometimes, all you have to do is ASK!
Make a decision: fun-loving Tigger or sad-sack Eeyore?
Optimism, punched with a little practicality wonders awesome. Even the raw potion works just fine!
Value others inputs. If they’re riding hard on you, means they haven’t given up on you yet.
It’s not about how to achieve your dreams. It’s about how to lead your life. If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself. The dreams WILL COME to you!

RIP St. Randy of Pittsburgh. Some people really live through their deaths.

The way you make me feel, baby!

2011-03-09T16:30:00.000-08:00

Hail the superstar that keeps me from burning
Hail the rock star who keeps the guitar strings churning
new ballads, new poems, new love songs or two,
Hail the superwoman am yet to woo.

Here's to the beauty that's shinier than gold
Here's to the saying that eyes never grow old
Here's to the tan that doesn't need no Sun
that brings beaches to shame, and that's no pun!

To the person I never met but I think
I have mated more than I have breathed this birth,
If Valentine meant the one you love..
then you're the one who scored all above!

Happy Woman's Day

2011-03-07T20:59:00.001-08:00

However past you go to.
However recent you're in.
Whichever mythology you swear by,
This, you just cannot deny.

Being the perfect lap for you to sleep,
Being the better hand to know when to feed
Being the tight slap to know what's the line
and which way to look when crossing the road.

Being the soft one of the siblings
Being the one to share all her feelings
Littlest of things and smallest of joy
Making you fit to be a healthy-wealthy boy!

Being the ear when the world ceases to listen
Being the shoulder when tears cease to open
Being the hand to hold after the afterglow
In love and in trust she makes you a man.

So in all entirety, she makes yo live
your way, or any way you can probably jive.
Don't try to go beneath, for you cannot fathom
the timeless depth of a complete woman!

Cuttin the craa..

2011-03-06T21:20:00.000-08:00

Maybe it's just the time
maybe it's just a phrase
Maybe it's over the top
Just another Rat-race.

Maybe the song has no tune
Maybe it's pure fortune
Maybe it's touch and feel
Back to back, real to reel.

Spring got me into it!

2011-03-06T14:08:00.001-08:00

Believe me, it's not me.
It's the spring.

I don't know how but it always starts the night it rains. or rained.
It slowly transforms into a language. It takes a figure.
The clouds pass by and horizon is seen.
and you can start drawing with borrowed art papers.

It follows the usual route.
Smiling in the dark, smiling for no reason.
Sounding stupid, cheesy and on the borders of boringly funny.
Hiding from one and all, and holding it out in the open.
With secrets hanging bare in the open to dry.

Those who know, will know.
Unfortunately, those who knew, are no more.
But you can't speed up in this route, on whichever car you drive..
either the drive;s awesome or you're terrible at driving :P

It's all the same, similar. The hours, the minutes.. the movements!
The rationales of finding rationality, and then
negating it. Only to prove it again.
Viability study is as archaic as thinking, it seems!

You always loose to yourself when you don't want to win.
and who know, know how superstitious can winning get.
What can you change, when you see the cycle moving again
every blink fights a tear or two!

I tell you it's not me, it's the spring.
It's the time to rise in it,
Don't know why but I love doing it over and over...
Maybe the light is the brightest this time.

The Definition of Beauty!

2011-03-05T21:29:00.000-08:00

Do you remember your dreams after you wake up?
Have you tested yourself the way you did to know exactly
when you slept off?
Do you remember the face you just saw in your dreams?

What if I told you I just dreamt awake?
What if I told you I just saw those strands of hair
covering just the exact geometric angle of pupil
that is where it does not hide the expressions?

What if you never know how much loved dark circles?
Or how much they rekindles that bent down part of yours which once wanted
to burn the midnight oil rather than minting money?
Did you ever care to listen beyond your dreams.. the calls
to old blues which sounds more powerful than these reggae's of today?

Do you remember spelling beauty for the first time? Or the first time you imagined it?
You defined it for yourself.
Your very own set of prejudices,
your conserved sense of restricted media and local outlook,
and your embodiment of perfect with no extra r's in it?

You'll never know how you will feel if you never defined it... but
you will know what exactly I mean if you could see those lips
moving on your worst times.
and you sense.. no, you know,
that things will set square once those tresses are parted again.
And, you, in all your existence, just waited for that moment to come.

To capture. To love.
Till the point it's unbearable again.

What does the mirror say?

2011-03-03T09:00:00.000-08:00

So when it begins, as always, seems sunny and sexy.

You tend to march, even in April!
You believe in togetherness, you believe in unity.
Even more dangerous, you believe in the power of youth.
You read history books of renaissance and revolutions,
And think to throttle the incumbent one day!

Whew! Actually, phew!
Amidst the belief of cutting across races and religions,
provinces and priorities, you think signatures of youth still holds..
You know the ones like drugs, pornography and late nights!

O ignorant! O innocent!
Only if you knew letter of the law is only upheld when the spirit falls down!
The raunchy jokes and friendly pokes – those flaming shots and smoking pots,
smell good only when the coal’s red. For when it’s summer, it blooms.
And when it’s winter, it just fucking doesn’t.

For it’s real hard to break out of convention.
For you don’t even know what the umbilical cord missed to catch... Where you picked up the wrongs,
Where you mixed up rules with principles, and when you messed up human relations.

Growing up is as tough as breathing easy. Let’s not even go to breaking out.
When going gets tough, you go back to your cocoons.
And in your safe havens, you start spinning your own spider-web.

You’re the story teller. You’re king. You’re the judge.
That’s a massacre of a combination.

But dude, does it really matter?
What does the mirror say?

The color is Red

2011-02-24T19:03:00.000-08:00

The color of verses, the color of curses
The color that's believed to bind universes
The color makes you wonder, the color makes you wander
The color on your parting sure makes you thunder.

The elliptic eyes, and the secret vice
The bonnetted stories up the hill sure sound nice
The chants go all around, the falling pieces are abound
The beauty of the nature or it's you to have me spellbound?

The right's long gone, the ritual's long past
The left has gone hard way and the highway's gone fast
The driver's changed seats, or the marks are forgotten,
I bet the color's brown still, and pink when smitten.

The store rests is pieces forever, the story's put to rest
The memories that tricked down can stay safe in the chest
For the key maybe valid still, but what use's the key?
The first took it own course, let the rest be.

Breaching Boundaries...

2010-08-19T21:01:00.000-07:00

So what if I can't blow a whistle when I see you're drying your hair
So what if I can't sing like McCartney out of despair
So what if I can't built a Taj for a memoir
We still can hold each other from the world's be.

So what if we can't feel each other
So what if all we connect is not real
So what if real is not real anymore
Who draws the line, and who decides it there?

So what if I can't carry you in my arms
So what if we can't share sundaes in barns
So what if we can't fight with those alarms
Who rings the bell and who hears it anyway?

So what if there're still work to be done
So what if there're margins to erase
So what if the plum's never tasted..
Who told love had had to be realized?

Kids: God's unspoken verses

2010-07-16T08:48:00.000-07:00

Synchronicity- POLICE

2010-06-27T21:04:00.000-07:00

It's an excerpt from the album Synchronicity by the Police.. the band. Mostly the lyrics are by Sting, and some really hit me hard. Thought of storing them in the webspace.

All our greatest killers were industrious
At least the ones we all know by name
For it's murder by numbers 1 2 3
It's as easy to learn as your ABC.

If we share this nightmare
Then we can dream
Spiritus Mundi

A star fall, a phone call
It joins all, Synchronicity

If we explode the atom bomb
would they say that we were dumb?

They say the meek shall inherit the earth...

We want our tea in the Sahara with you...

About Time

2010-06-17T22:02:00.000-07:00

When there’s little room to open your wings
No matter how strong the air pushes you up
The wings at most flutter by itself
Knowing well flipping sides won’t help.

And when there’s no room for flexing muscles,
In the closed space of suffocated breathlessness
What’s the use of all the barbells you pump
For the very fabric is unable to bear the stress?

When you feel like you’ve been trimmed off your spirit
Your effervescence, your zeal, your very soul
When you know your waves will go uncaught,
Would you honestly spare a thought?

That is when sparks do fly
Not for the concrete conglomerate, but the humble and shy
For what’s yours, what’s own, is what you conceived,
Like a baby, parenthood succeeds all and sundry.

'To My Lovely'

2010-06-14T09:13:00.000-07:00

Don’t come so close to me
That I can smell your perfume,
So close that I can see through your anemic skin,
I smell your perfume that has mixed up with the sweat and sunburns.
The tans and the waxed legs that you were ever so proud of,
Don’t come so close so I can’t feel you anymore.

Stay afar, on the other side of the bank.
Sit idle under the grand banyan tree maybe, or by
the stairwell where the village women would come in the evening
over their watery fights. Read, keep reading the book of longing,
and long to belong in the beholder’s arms. Shed a tear for the man
you’ve never seen, but don’t come close that I can touch you.

For there has been too many bloodshed on this side of the river,
Opulence cut the throat of sovereignty long back, where freedom was once
fed, is now the battleground for hostility, and the fear of death. For you,
‘to my lovely’, should stay far, curling strands of your highlighted hair,
for the blood that was lost, and the revenge that was avenged, stand
testimony to the love repossessed.

Distant Dreams

2010-03-30T20:26:00.000-07:00

The birds that flew across the bridge
and swans who swam across the sea
Never knew what they were doing unknown
To make the unseen harbours see.

There were trees who drank the same water
and breathed around the same moist air
and grew on the same land, same oxidants
fed same robins to sing the same prayer.

Still they never met, never they knew
How the other wipes their tears off
How the other makes faces when angry
and throws tantrums when in grief or shock.

For who lends the shoulder when one cries
and who pats the back when achieves one
and who is scared of which demons
and who soothes their sleepy morn's.

Because what matters in a shiny day
is maybe the joke that's played along
But one who gives a lift in a rainy night
is the one for whom the feeling's strong.

The harbours had the same ships running,
and the same songs of the kayak-drives
But in order to come to real terms,
they had to do more than daily rhymes.

For they both dreamt of a day ahead
when the sun will shine and children play
and swear on the tears that they might shed
that together they'll make, what they say.

Madly Bangalee

2010-03-28T16:48:00.000-07:00

There were dreams in the world we used to live in,
there were green mangoes to steal
There were hidden books of rotten literature,
under the big fat Daniel Steel.

We heard Pink Floyd where we got high
and Scorpions when we laid low,
We heard John Denver on our way back home,
and read Shelly when we missed home.

We had Tagore's lines rote in mind
to use when a friend was cheated
We had Sukumar Ray to make people laugh
when trysts of life were met.

We knew enough chords for a rainy day
and more jazz music to dance
We knew poems of Nazrul when blood fumed
after a Rand De Basati trance.

We knew and defined the meaning of friendship
and never left the hand we held,
My Bangalee roots stemmed myself
to become this perfect blend.

Passing Phase

2010-03-25T20:22:00.001-07:00

He was alone when she walked by
silent breeze on the passer by
Like it blows him off his feet
from where he stood on the street.

The wonderland awaits, or so he thought
For the umpteen romances he has sought
Taught him to dream and not loose hope
and reach a high can take no dope.

They held hands, they took showers
they talked about buds blooming to flowers.
They lied beneath the martian sky
where only angels are allowed to fly.

She thought the time was way too fine
The knight is here and his armour to shine
He thought if not the mermaid be
Together they can make a perfect We.

If they only knew the rules of the Saturn
Permanent at best, can only be a pattern
For change is the new law of life
It touches like a feather, but cuts like a knife.

Footsie

2010-03-24T19:45:00.000-07:00

It was a known ground
and the rules acknowledged
It was a known battle,
the enemy only changed.

We were both trying hard
to fit the shoes we didn't try
The shoes maybe worn before
maybe strewn, sworn by.

We didn't know what to do,
but we knew what to not
We traded along on the line
of letting in and letting out.

The message was loud and clear,
The tone had to be delicate, though
For there's no fun in playing
footsie with stockings on.

Apprehensions were part-life
rest were.. hope and pray
To play the known game with new opponents
is always a grass- tad bit gray.

Snow Pastel

2010-03-23T17:14:00.000-07:00

Chunks of snow pelting from the top
But humbly wets the roads when touching the earth
Flurries hurrying like running out on schedule
Slippery sidewalks prepare for the slush.

Thirty minutes of pure ecstasy,
White pieces of joy pasted on us
High-rises look hazy through the rain
Horizon seems to a Grey hairline.

We could smell it, it marked us with chalks
Caught us off the guard after the eighteen degree mark
Parting kisses that the winter blew us
Only the romantic will know the reason why.

No sunshine today, no windchill to hide from.
No ear-cups are around so the wind touches the skull.
I've got warmth in my pocket from last night
Will walk through the ice and alabaster light.

My sunshine.

2010-03-22T17:43:00.000-07:00

Wrap me around like a warm towel, like kid out of bathtub.
Warm me like the hot-water pipe that runs in the chilly downtown.
Like a mother's hug, like a brother's pat,
Like a yellow spread-out cricket field in some northern county..

(When the ball came looping from high in the sky,
the fielder closed eyes because the Sun was too bright.)

Like a quilt you get in stale air conditioned hotel,
Saturate, warmify or sepia our lives.

Like a father's hug when the son scores a mark,

Shine on you crazy diamond... light up thy spark.

End of War.

2010-03-22T17:26:00.001-07:00

You shoot me. I shoot you.
Our bullets stick to each other,
though we hardly do.

I curse you. You curse me.
Our street-fights are welcome home
though seldom are we.

You smack me. I smack you.
Our egos throttle homes rattle
though (the) battles continue.

I kill you. You kill me.
But there're no flowers or Shiva's to go
(as) the demon is set free.

We all wanted sunshine. We all needed rain.
We all were living just as Franco saved Spain.
Truth were nude but nudity was legal
Food was the cause to fight, life was frugal.

We spelt it wrong. We didn't get the takes.
Some call it an end when the brake breaks.
My bullet will end you pal, your bullet mine
If both of us press the button, ain't be any spine.

Weekend

2010-03-19T17:20:00.001-07:00

It's a wonderful wonderful evening.
Breeze wiping the last of week's toll off my face,
Unsettling hairs that was parted to perfection for the drama
that unfolds every toiling day in varied ways.

I feel fresh, I taste the last sweat before it evaporates.
The last of the facade that was worn everyday with utmost care
is shelved back, waiting to be washed and dried.
It can rest a day or two, so can I.

The smell that runs through my nose doesn't originate here
but is somewhere in the old country, back home.
Where they still feel the fire's spark,
when the meat chops are fried and cakes baked.

The sound is abstract, largely dominated by the basketball bumps
and friendly banters. A few cars start off for their downtown destination.
Families meet over dinner, mom gets to see her daughter studying in high school
where a few oldies regurgitate their memories of a soccer game.

It's the day we waited for. It's the start of dream that we dreamt for forty hours.
The planned sleep goes for a toss and we catch up with loved ones staying afar.
Plans roll for the coming days with rejuvenated zeal.
A few beds are cleaned, others, get ready to be messed up.

There's a lovely hug I see, I see holding hands.
I sense dad's getting me the special coffee.
For today has been dreamt too many times,
for even a moment be missed.

Unspoken words of fear, angst and disgust.

2010-02-16T19:05:00.000-08:00

On the wake another terror attack in my home country, I stand speechless like millions of others. Not that I am incapable of doing something, not that I don’t want to. But somehow I don’t know what to do. I am, just like everybody else, is too flabbergasted and bereaved to think straight and clear; I am shit scared. There was a movie a couple of years back in hindi, names A Wednesday. The theme of the movie was what might happen if a common man decided to take the plunge himself, of putting all his frustration and disgust into action with the aide of modern information-quipped world. He scares the police and at the end, lets them know if a common man can catch the guards off a guard with élan, what might those with money, power and vicious intentions do.

I feel same today. To give a small wrap-up of my digested part of the story: NINE people died in a for-nothing blast in German Bakery at Pune, which I am told is akin to Coffee House of Kolkata. Three of them were a boy, his girlfriend and his sister. I happened to know the guy by name and probably met him on one or two occasions. An IIT-grad, he was working at JP Morgan and was having a valentino-dinner with his sweetheart and also his sister, whom he arranged to meet his girl. They noticed a bag, suspected something and asked a super-excited 15-year old Nepali boy, who worked at the place, to look for its owner. Like 90% of 15-years old would do, he opened it… to make it the couples last dinner together, the siblings last meet and the lad’s last jump of excitement. They died, all on-the-spot.

That’s my digest, because I knew the guy, because the sister was my friend’s sister’s classmate and the boy used to serve my friends regularly. Not that they were so close that it shattered my world, not even that a very close school friend is alive by chance today has woke me up from a sleep… I am just told by someone to wait for the day when he does not pick my call to say he is well, and the tone in which my ever-so-jubilant friend told me that, told me something. It made me weak in my knees. I understood we are alive by chance. Not that it was different yesterday. The death has just come closer to me, Arya Banerjee, no matter where I stay at this point of time. I can just sense it, though neither me nor any of my beloved is unwell or fighting a war, but they are just out and about… a reason enough for them to die. Yes, death. The darkness which apparently is so romantic that people fantasize about it, about heaven and hell and the deep-frying pans, and there are so many philosophy, theology and principles around it; can just engulf me or anyone without any rhyme or reason, and also not because a drunk celebrity was driving his land-rover over speed. It got a reason, which is the most unreasonable of all.

So what changes? We are still insecure as we were yesterday, we still walk with fear, board the bus with care so that we aren’t ran over, check our wallets every minutes we’re in a crowded train and bribe doctors to lawyers to policemen to let us live. There is just another added superpower which can do all of these. The problem is we don’t see them. It’s omnipotent and omnipresent. It’s not revered but is fearfully respected. It’s not preferred but in constantly evolving. It’s scary, it scared the hell outta me.

Leaves me wondering what are we waiting for? Not in the positive sense, but in the most powerless way of terms. Not the Rahman’s inspiring song, but just a plain ask: how long we are left to live? Why am I thinking of a Masters, why is X thinking of starting her company and why is Y so happy that Z texted him good morning with a heart-smiley at the end? Why do we love, why do we listen to Pete Seeger, why do we read Rumi? I know I am being the worst pessimist I could be, but my optimism is not leading me anywhere. I am loved but not powerful enough to shelter my beloveds, I love but not enlightened enough to see the light at the end of this tunnel. What if there is no end to this tunnel? What if the world turns into a fight club which fights for the sake of fighting alone? What if reasons fade thick and fast and we are derided to the lumps of masses Ray predicted in his books that may only live and die but can’t think? I will probably not live that long, I might see a brilliant innovation or two, a few more solar and lunar eclipses and a closer look at the mars, one more Google and few more Aamir Khan and Denzel Washington movies, but nothing makes me happier than I am sad today.

I kind of understood what differentiates a common man and a government or ruling body today. Rulers worry about what killed their men and how were they killed. We, the people, only care about, how long we live and when we die. It’s not conflict of interest, but just watching where the puck stops.

Because love is known to heal all wounds, I pray, in my cocoon, ashamed of my race.

Today, the hardest! Take care, and never meant more so.

My flowers have died an honest death, because they couldn’t withstand the cold
My emotions have soothed away, because it has read in black and bold
That my fortune, or anyone else's for that matter, is held ransom
for reason that I, and everyone else is unable to fathom.

Who goes for a toss and no matter where it lands,
Who calls the heads or who bats first,
Who was present or who missed the match
Cause the match is closed if those guys catch.

I am insecure, scared and brittle.
I knew enough to stay in my hole
I am awake till I keep my eyes open,
I am dead before I actually died.

Promise to be more optimistic in my next post. As for now, let me mourn, in peace.

Aboard, abraod.

2009-02-16T18:06:00.001-08:00

Well, A long high after a long time. high or sigh? I'll settle for a simple HI!

Sitting pretty and getting access to a machine here in Toronto, I thought why not pen down this long journey which I have made in the last couple of weeks! Kolkata-> Hyderabad -> Toronto. Span is quite huge. Home, Workplace, Deputation.

The flight journey was cool enough. British airways stood true to its name being snobbish, and maybe a bit more more to us... Indians. I hate to say this, but there was a definite discrimiantion between the flights I took from Hyd to London and then London to Toronto. everything changed, right from highlife entertainment tv to drinks they served, and services they offered and the way it was offered. Hey i gotta tell ya something which left was in grrr... the airhostess asked for my age proof when I asked for Red Labels!!! I mean, is not that embarrassing??? I snarled back saying you ned the passport? and then it was smooth... the scotch and the service, both!! and the wines as well.

London airport was cool, well no deja vu there, the airport changed a hell lot in the last 13 years, and terminal 5, where all BA flights are now routed to, is a entirely new built airport. Only the name Heathrow was same, and maybe the weather!! I am obviously referring to my visit to the UK 13 years back, if anybody needed the explicit pointer!!!

Well, that was it for now. I will come back later. The apartment I am living in is pure Indian, or should I say south bound! more on that when I come back. there is a lot more to talk about, trust me!

Take care.

I have seen them decompose

2008-10-21T06:44:00.000-07:00

Protection is good. Sometimes it helps nurture the blossoms to flowers and seeds to fruits. But many-a-times, the fruit doesn’t see daylight, hence not armed with to fight the toil of life and thereby, fails. Frail and weak, the fruit drops off, without giving any of its ‘expected’ or desired results.

Coming to real world too, we’ll have plenty of examples. Kids coming from too protective families often fall prey to ragging, out-of-couch feelings and die an early death. Poetically speaking, ‘Death of middle class Indian dollar dreams’!!

I have somehow experienced it in leaps and bounds over the past year. How racism is born, how caste divides are nurtured and how differences are kept in the blood, which surprisingly has its roots in the very way people are brought up. I read somewhere, parents bragging about giving their offshoots the ‘Indian value’ teachings! And our first lady of Bengal, Mrs. Dona Ganguly retorted that teachings aren’t taught but imbibed and taken up from the milieu they’re brought up in. true. But that’s what serves as the spice powder in the soul curry!

Often the way a Bengali lad is taught about their cuisine leads them to struggle for living in the tamarind-exhaustive southern part and the way a vegetarian Marwari boy is fed leads them to get their hands a kilometer off from all the chicken-friendly classes! But there weren’t any stones unturned and any (book) pages/ leaves unopened when they were ‘educated’. But somehow the problem of having the world’s second largest democracy has its bottleneck… we are different, and so bloody different that our blood is the only thing common between us.

Come to religion, it depends on region. Come to cuisine, it comes to coastal non-coastal, come to political turbulence or economic upheaval, it falls under territory-based exuberance or nonchalance. The ‘indianness’, an ever-elusive term, becomes more so, when presented to the inside-world, but surprisingly opposite when presented outside. Abroad, all Indians are desis and hindi-bengali-marathi-tamils eat from the same plate! Or do they? Do there also we are not stung by the tetuls, the roshogollas, the achars and the tandoors? Then why boast about something intransient, inculcated and inherited?

If there’s something called an open question, then maybe this is one the most important of them all. We are all united when the national anthem is played, bar the north-indians who think ‘sare jahan se achha’ would have suited India better!!! And there are chain mails about how ‘Jana gana’ was written actually to insinuate the British Empire. Always prone to an empirical-structure, be it the Mughal, British or the Gandhi (ahh, I like that!), we have been anti-incumbent and accumbency-lovers. You can call us hypocrites, but we have it in our blood!

I spotted a red clutter in my restroom the other day. I could get what it is and I left it at that. Yesterday I saw that is cleared and the remnants helped me understand that that was actually an unused old red towel. It decomposed to such an extent, that it became a heap of red dust particles. Someone told me a weird reason for not taking bath everyday… “If a towel is regularly put in a bucket of water then what happens to it? It rots. So is our body!!” well, my forgotten friend, here’s a polar opposite of your story. Don’t wash it for a long time and it decomposes. To particles… to molecules, to atoms and to some other little-known, much-spent God-particles, Higgs-bosons!!! But it decomposes.
And I have seen them decompose.

Wandering of the perfumed dirt!

2008-07-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

There are five types of people in this world. I do not wish to give you a count of all of them, but i will tell ytou something. We often think life is a huge pancake with unfair shares given to everyone. Then who gets the right share? Who decides who deserves what? If we are too small compared to the earth and if our earth is still small compared to the cosmos, then we/earth = earth/cosmos. so earth squared = we * cosmos!! Now, we are negligible compared to cosmos, and that becomes a finite quantity. now incremented we by dWE and arth by dEarth, we arrive at, we/earth = we + dWE / earth + dEarth! so if we land on some bigger planet someday, we will automatically be bigger!!!

CRAP!

what is not so crappy here is the though we are as big as our earth! if we think our earth is huge, we are huge. if we think earth is too small place to live, you are small, buddy!! it's like the droplet which sits pretty on a grasstop thinking she's the prettiest droplet in this world, when sun rises and drains the drop out of the grass. at last, it's the grass who's lonely. it's you who are alone. if you think so. I finish of tonight's bundle of banter with a poem:

Off they went where Sun never sets
Off they went on a lonely trip
Off they went with hand in hand.
The anguished soul with the bereaved man!

Dreamt they big on higher hopes
Flied they high on light's speed
Moved they free where they smelt love
The same smell of the dirt road.

Parrachute is all they needed, back
When they decided to return home
To the sweet pastures of earthy sweat
and salty perspiration was licked through.

Think apple. Eat peach!

Crows for company

2008-05-24T16:23:00.000-07:00

That's why I love Google. Even when ypu're in mood and out of touch, it gives you the right push for it. Today it was the topic of my blog, and Google said: ruminate. I agreed.

Pas month has been pretty eventful at any length. New habitat, New habits and new habitants! big news is I'm trying my hand at cooking. though haven't cooked much as of now, but you know, with proper ingredients and machinery at ready disposal, I might start anytime. Just an allusion, you see!

The chioce of people seems good, rather great. It's good to see that grinder working! Sad part is it has been two months I went home and maybe four more months till I go again. and that's a sad story, you bet. Had been having regular chats with old pals like DK, Pope and Kohi... and it's heartening to see DK accelerating hard. Pope has got a Swiss job! I know that's sexy!! I have had a few phone call and offers, none of which looked really interesting to shift again. The one with best one is pending, and chances seem to be bleak there. Luck is something you can always try... and keep on trying, right?

Personally too, it has been great. Had a chance to dine with my latest crush and some chitchats there were worth saving in a tape! Nights are really cool, one with the AC working all night and rest, with her words putting and pulling out from sleep. Ahh... I forgot, sleeping habit has gotten bad to worse, now awry. I can't sleep before three... that's fine when I land up late in office; but what happens when I need toreport before nine? Chumma pa... hell freezes o'er! And yes, it's a different story that it's nearly six in the morning now: it's weekend!! and the lasttwo beers have gone down the drain, clearly!

Didi and folks have moved to NJ, they must be having fun! The skyline lures me like anything. Good thing is I resumed on my reading habit. Some good books here and there... makes up for the 12-12 routine on weekdays!!

and there you go, I just remembered I have an unfinished book. aAnd I have crows for company.

Let's start the search.
For the last cigarette!!!

FLATtened

2008-05-10T02:11:00.000-07:00

They say that a few good men can make the impossible. I agree taking a flat at your workplace is not that big a task, but certainly it seemed so after monthlong persuaion to people for making their mind to shift. but lax got the better of many! Finally we could gather a lot of four, just the number needed for making the move. It took an hour or so, with a great amount of help from friends, we moved in, with nearly eight luggages per person. Luckily for us, the flat is full furnished, and with a friend coming in with his machine, I promise blogging will be much easier if not regular. It seems the good old habits are trying to come back into time and space, and I'm only too eager. Will obviously come back in a better and bigger manner... lest I do away with cleaning of the system.

Thought you all would love the news, so shared it. Make happiness.

Cheers!!!

courtesy tatha..

2008-04-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

tere bin / besides you
sanu sohnia / my love
koi hor nahio labhna / i shan't find another
jo dave / who'll give
ruh nu sakun / peace to my soul
chukke jo nakhra mera / and indulge me
ve main sare ghumm ke vekhia / i have gone and seen it all
amrika , roos, malaysia / america, russia, malaysiana
kittey vi koi fark si / there wasn't any difference
har kise di koi shart si / they all had some condition
koi mangda mera si sama / some asked for my time
koi hunda surat te fida / some were fascinated with my face
koi mangda meri si vafa / some demanded my fidelity
na koi mangda merian bala / none wanted my demons
tere bin / besides you
hor na kise / no one else
mangni merian bala / wanted my demons
tere bin / besides you
hor na kise / no one else
karni dhup vich chhan / shall shade me in the sun
jiven rukia / (the) way you paused
si tun zara / slightly
nahion bhulna / i shan't forget
main sari umar / all my life
jiven akhia si akhan chura / you said, looking away
"rovenga sanu yad kar" / "you shall weep in my memory"
hasia si main hasa ajeeb / i laughed a strange laugh
(par) tu nahi si hasia / but you didn't
dil vich tera jo raaz si / you had a secret in your heart
mainu tu kyon ni dasia / why didn't you tell me
tere bin / besides you
sanu eh raz / none shall tell this
kise hor nahion dasna / secret to me
tere bin / besides you
peerh da ilaaj / what druid
kis vaid kolon labhna / has the cure to my ills
milia si ajj mainu / i found today
tera ik patra / a note of yours
likhia si jis 'te / on which you had scribbeled
tun shayr varey shah da / a varis shah couplet
park ke si osnu / upon reading which
hanjnu ik duliya / a teardrop fell
akhan 'ch band si / what was locked in the eye
seh raaz ajj khulia / was revealed today
ki tere bin / that other than you
eh mere hanjnu / these tears of mine
kise hor / won't be kissed by
nahio chumna / none else
ki tere bin / that other than you
eh mere hanjhu / these tears of mine
mitti vich rulnha / will wither in the dust

blabber 'bout a belly... that's mine!

2008-03-30T13:34:00.000-07:00

I am a mirror... Gotcha!! :-)
**************************
An eternal optimist is how I would like myself to evolve as.till now, I have respected human values and corporate ethics with same allegiance.Having done with my studentship,I am now polishing my boots before plunging into the professional world.I am ambitious, and I like my aspirations to go as wild as they can, because 'going wild' is the only thing sensible people cannot do!

However, I am a perennial learner, who loves to learn from life rather than texts.Computers interest me, I breathe in the Internet and Management is my pursuit. My academics are my gun, and my inter personnel skills are the bullets.

A quintessential hedonist, I love to take cue from great men and their achievements.My guiding lights have been :
"You never win a silver, You loose a Gold." and
"If you want to see heaven,You must die."

I believe in 3 secrets of life which hold me strong. My family is my backbone, and my friends are my greatest treasure. My love is passionately distributed between a kid, classical music and an age-old diary.

Intellect stimulates me.They often regard me as one EVIL GENIUS!

***
"Don't be Evil"...

"Stay Hungry,
Stay Foolish!!"

Knowing is believing, Knowledge is God!

The Bong Connection 2007

2007-07-28T21:33:00.000-07:00

For every single controversial issues in this world or the universe at large, the witty duds viz. Tathagata and Arya never miss out on an opportunity to blandish their unworldly comments.
Not only that, they try their best to reel out an amount of abstraction from all that's in concrete and pure.. Now is concrete pure? Better not to delve into the matters more.
With a movie like "The Bong Connection" by Anjan Dutt, the hil(l)y drunkard director-actor-singer, or the modest version of HR, who has finally shown the world his bits [read: tits!].. it was nearly impossible for the intellectually challenged duo to hold their breath.. especially after they watched the same on the same day.

We call it coincidence. Others, misfortune.

Following are the excerpts from Orkut:

Tathagata: Kalke Bong Connection dekhe elam. Opurbo. Erom bhalo cinema khub shiggiri dekhini. Chomotkar gaan, shonlap, editing ... bola nishproyojon. Tobe Ektai khed, Parambratar work life ta shudhu Windows XPr desktop with and error mesasge dekhiye chere dilo?

Arya: same here..ami o kaal dekhlaam. parambrata r acting ta sera legeche..specially the bengali dilemma you know. khub relatable. tobe tomar khed er ektai uttor.. error message dekhte dekhte ghumiye pora ta ki khub beshi y significant noe???

Tathagata: Are shob kota shot jegulote parambratar officer computer a dekha gecehe, sheta in the same situation. Obviously shob kota shot ekshathei neoya, [jemon hoy] ei jaigatay jotner obhabta chokhe porchilo. Ar arekta khub hotash hoyechi, bidesher outdoor gulo ekdom bhalo lageni ... kal ho na ho marka cinemata bhab ... budgeter moddhe rekhe kora jetona ki? at least jonoshomudrer moddhe signale rasta cross korche ...eta to bhishon expect korchilam!

Arya: from when you started believing in anodynes my friend? the shot you expected could have been very "pultish" sort of..because it was so evident that Param was a fish out of water in the US !! and though I agree with you that the outdoors were not very upright and upbright, don't you think too much flashy shots would be a misfit there?? I liked the way it was shot..it depicted the amount of claustromania and dilemmas those bongs live in!!

Tathagata: Yes, so much in agreement ... but I wanted to see the contrast of the flashy shot and the dilemma-drenched indoors. As of Kal ho na ho, we can accuse it of handling the issue too much commercially, taking the life out of it! This movie perfectly captured the indoors ... just a few flashy outdoor shots would have been the golden touch. But Parambrata's office life shots were taken without love, or in a hurry ... at least they could have changed his outfit to make the abstraction of passage of time more believable. Remember the scenes the tanhaii song in Dil Chahta hai, how aptly it captured the broken heart and a transformed man! I can think of anything other than budget cuts to effect editing decisions ... how unfortunate.

Tathagata: And despite all the confusions that a bong would face in the alien land - there should have been a shot at the time after Parambrata had settled down in US and standing alone in with a happy face looking at the plush landscape ... proud of his feat. Show me an Indian who hasn't done this .... and I'll show you that audacious perverter of truth! This would have made the room for a high and low in Parambrata's life at US, which according to the movie is dull and depressive !

Secret behind "Houdini act"

2006-08-06T23:24:00.000-07:00

Harry Houdini (March 24, 1874 – October 31, 1926) was the stage name of Ehrich Weiss, one of the most famous magicians, escapologists, and stunt performers of all time as well as an investigator of spiritualists. He legally changed his name to "Harry Houdini" in 1913.

Career

In 1891, Ehrich became a professional magician, and began calling himself Harry Houdini as a tribute to the French magician Jean Eugène Robert-Houdin (he would make Houdini his legal name in 1913). Initially, his magical career met with little success, though he met fellow performer Wilhelmina Beatrice (Bess) Rahner in 1893, and married her three weeks later. For the rest of his performing career, Bess would work as his stage assistant.

Houdini initially focused on cards and other traditional card acts. At one point he billed himself as the King of Cards. One of his most notable non-escape stage illusions was performed in London's hippodrome: he vanished a full-grown elephant (with its trainer) from a stage, beneath which was a swimming pool.

He soon began experimenting with escape acts, however. Harry Houdini's "big break" came in 1899, when he met the showman Martin Beck. Impressed by Houdini's handcuffs act, Beck advised him to concentrate on escape acts and booked him on the Orpheum vaudeville circuit. Within months, he was performing at the top vaudeville houses in the country. In 1900, Houdini travelled to Europe to perform. By the time he returned in 1904, he had become a sensation.

From 1904 and throughout the 1910s, Houdini usually performed with great success in the United States. He would free himself from handcuffs, chains, ropes and straitjackets, often while hanging from a rope or suspended in water, sometimes in plain sight of the audience. In 1913, he introduced perhaps his most famous act, the Chinese Water Torture Cell, in which he was suspended upside-down in a locked glass and steel cabinet full to overflowing with water.

He explained some of his tricks in books written in the 1920s. Many locks and handcuffs could be opened with properly applied force, others with shoestrings. Other times, he carried concealed lockpicks or keys, being able to regurgitate small keys at will. He was able to escape from a milk can which had its top fastened to its collar because the collar could be separated from the rest of the can from the inside. When tied down in ropes or straitjackets, he gained wiggle room by enlarging his shoulders and chest, and moving his arms slightly away from his body, and then dislocating his shoulders. His straitjacket escape was originally performed behind curtains, with him popping out free at the end. However, Houdini discovered that audiences were more impressed and entertained when the curtains were eliminated, so that they could watch him struggle to get out. He performed his straitjacket escape dangling upside-down from the roof of a building for increased dramatic effect on more than one occasion.

Difficult though it was, Houdini's entire act, including escapes, was also performed on a coordinated but separate tour schedule by his brother, Theo Weiss ("Dash" to the Weiss family), under the name "Hardeen". The major difference between the two was in the straitjacket escape; Houdini dislocated both his shoulders to get out, but Hardeen could dislocate only one.

In 1910, while on a tour of Australia, Houdini brought with him a primitive bi-plane with which he made the first controlled powered aeroplane flight in Australia, at Diggers Rest, Victoria.[1] History records that there were several competitors for the record-making flight, but they narrowly missed out.
Debunking spiritualists
In the 1920s, after the death of his beloved mother, he turned his energies toward debunking self-proclaimed psychics and mediums, a pursuit that would inspire and be followed by latter-day magicians James Randi and P.C. Sorcar, and even Penn and Teller. Houdini's magical training allowed him to expose frauds who had successfully fooled many scientists and academics. He was a member of a Scientific American committee which offered a cash prize to any medium who could successfully demonstrate supernatural abilities. Thanks to Houdini's contributions, the prize was never collected. As his fame as a "ghostbuster" grew, Houdini took to attending séances in disguise, accompanied by a reporter and police officer. Possibly the most famous medium whom he debunked was the Boston medium Mina Crandon, a.k.a. Margery.

These activities cost Houdini the friendship of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes. Doyle, a firm believer in spiritualism during his latter years, refused to believe any of Houdini's exposés. Doyle actually came to believe that Houdini was a powerful spiritualist medium, had performed many of his stunts by means of paranormal abilities, and was using these abilities to block those of other mediums that he was 'debunking' (see Doyle's The Edge of The Unknown, published in 1931 after Houdini's death). This disagreement led to the two men becoming public antagonists.
Death
Houdini's last performance was at the Garrick Theatre in Detroit, Michigan on October 24, 1926. The next day he was hospitalized at Detroit's Grace Hospital.

Houdini died of peritonitis from a ruptured appendix on Halloween, October 31, 1926, at the age of 52. Houdini had sustained a blow to his abdomen from McGill University boxing student J. Gordon Whitehead in Montreal two weeks earlier. A long-standing part of Houdini's act was to ask a member of the audience to punch him in the abdomen, but Houdini was reclining on his couch after his performance, in this instance, and was struck several times, without the opportunity to prepare himself for the blows. [2] Despite popular belief, the appendicitis and not the blow was the cause of his death -- the pain inflicted by the blows probably 'masked' the pain of the appendicitis, preventing the performer from seeking treatment. [3]

Houdini's funeral was held on November 4 in New York, with over two thousand mourners in attendance. He was interred in the Machpelah Cemetery, Queens, New York, with the crest of the Society of American Magicians inscribed on his gravesite. The Society holds their "Broken Wand" ceremony at the gravesite on the anniversary of his death to this day.
Legacy
Houdini left a final sting for his spiritualist opponents: shortly before his death, he had made a pact with his wife, Bess Houdini, to contact her from the other side if possible and deliver a pre-arranged coded message. Every Halloween for the next 10 years, Bess held a séance to test the pact. In 1936, after a last unsuccessful seance on the roof of the Knickerbocker hotel, she put out the candle that she had kept burning beside a photograph of Houdini since his death, later (1943) saying "ten years is long enough to wait for any man."

The United States Postal Service issued a postage stamp with a replica of Houdini's favorite publicity poster on July 3, 2002.

Harry Houdini has a motion picture star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at 7001 Hollywood Blvd. He starred in 5 silent films and wrote some of them.

A mostly fictionalized version of Houdini's life was made in a film in 1953 starring Tony Curtis. Most of the misconceptions about Houdini's life are due in part to this film. For example, it portrayed him dying from the Chinese Water Torture Cell, instead of the less spectacular peritonitis.

British singer Kate Bush recorded a song about Houdini's wife visiting mediums to see if his soul had survived which was included on her 1982 album The Dreaming, the cover of which showed Bush as Mrs Houdini, passing a small key to her husband via a kiss.

Experiment 604 in was named Houdini, in his honour.

Harry Houdini also appeared in the Image Comics title Spawn. In the two issue story-arc, (issues #19-#20) Houdini reveals to Spawn that he is actually a dimension-traveling hyper mage, ten times more powerful than his early 20th century stage act let on. Both Spawn and Houdini worked together to protect New York from extortion at the hands of physicists from the former Soviet Union who possessed a nuclear bomb. The disaster averted, Houdini again resumed his dimensional travels.

Controversy surrounds the decision by the Outagamie Museum in Appleton, Wisconsin to reveal the details of how Houdini performed his Metamorphosis trick.

On November 2, 2004, Houdini's only niece (Marie H. Blood) passed away.

Ironically, Houdini is often called upon in seances by "psychics", and other charlatans he sought to debunk.

'prawn' it like southies!!

2006-07-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

I went to a govt owned prawn factory today..it is situated to the left of Peerless hospital near Hiland Park,Kolkata and spreads over a large area..at least a hundread acres.the vast campus was originally a govt one..u've heard the name of Benfish if u are a bengalee, but later on
it has been sold to private export firms for 60 lakhs a building basis.
each of the buildings has a wierd spiral way to their reservoirs..there i saw a number of stages.

1.the praws come from outside in baskets
2.they are sorted according to sizes
3.samples are taken from each baskets and.. no. of prawns per kg (k) is calculated.
say it is around 30-35..varying for diff sizes.
4.then the basket is weighed in weighing machines (duh?!)..that is around 25 kgs..
and then calculating the no. of prawns per basket (25k) and then tabulating it.
5.dressing them..this consists of cutting the head n cleaning out the non-muscular portions
6.cleaning in fresh water and packaging..
7.making a slab by letting the ice freeze along with a kg of prawn
8.packing in packets and then in paper cover.then they tighten the tapes and..
it's up for grab for all the raveneous foodies abroad!!!

this entire process is done in an air conditioned underground chamber.believe it or not, from the girls who were sorting the prawns to the overseer or the dresser, all ..all are south indians!!need not say about the company owner!!!and yes..they know how to do business with prawns.
kudos to the fishermen!!!

ps:
I got hold of a slab for us (I think it's illegal,however) and had it for dinner.I swear,it was a
culinary delight!!!the taste still lingers in my tongue.. :-P

let's 'Prince' ourselves..

2006-07-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

well..enough of making mockery of the kid..common man, u gotta appreciate his prowess!I do support the statements that his being a five-year old helped his case..but still that was also
major point the army was working on.
In brief,the kid showed stamina in being strangled there in a 4.5inch diameter hole..
n living 50 hrs straight without any living being except insects and all..and his only connection
to outside world being a hanging cam, light n occassional food n water coming from above!
the army's work was a fine act of engineering craft injected with a mother's care.the way they reached the child was a remainder of the fact the our army can do anything in this world given the right effort,resource and intention.
also applaudible was zee news',as they transmitted the live feed from the spot for hours..wothout any commercial break.fearing an outlash or not,they provided us with a real-time information nevertheless. the political leaders were also at the working best..
it was quiet a scene!!!

I object the way the child was taken out.the jawan who went there n took him out is no less
a leader..yet why didn't he feature anywhere?he was handed to a major and then to MP's wife!not a monopoly that we wanted to see!

anyways,all's well that ends well!the coincidental mix of the place being the battlefield of kaurava-pandavas..Kurukhetra , the name being Prince, the scary memories of mumbai violence and the phenomenal work of the jawans made it
a national glory-story..which we all needed somehow.the pictures of all the religious stations praying hard
for a kid was a reminder that "united is the way to fight the terror"!

let us 'prince' ourselves..
jai hind!!

the first cut

2006-07-22T08:52:00.000-07:00

with respect to India Govt.'z decision to block the sites such as geocities.com,I think we, bloggers should be highly perturbed as this is like trying to have a grab over our virtual freedom.this space happens to be the place where we pen down whatever comes across us..certainly not to be watched over by some political parties.mind you, a Govt is nothing but a political party on power..and I personally despise them all.
whatever the cause of concern may be..do u think this can be a method to stop terrorism?can't they be a bit more sareful while handling the security measures?I see this attempt as a fake try ,just to show-off that they are working..wherein reality,they are crippling those who were really working.
what di u say?

photo testing

2006-07-01T12:39:00.000-07:00

probably it's me!...else not..