Something of Myself
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
She grows on you
Well, further to my last post things are getting better now! I am liking it - being here, in this place, seeing these people, meeting friends (old and new), meeting relatives who love me unconditionally.... Love changes everything.
India is like Hotel California - you can check-in any time you like but you can't check-out.
Hoping to see Prero tomorrow.
Had a long chat with Percy today: it was full of nostalgia - our years together in Britain for 4 years! It was brilliant recollecting those days. Our days. Amader hullod.
Sammie busy tonight with party - wish I was there. I always disliked her friends because I felt out of place. Today I want to be there with her for her's sake. To see her. Oh dear, this is getting english-ly dodgy now! ;)
Meeting Mrs Choudhury tomorrow - the woman who introduced me to the nuances of the English language. I hope it goes well. I hope she is still fond of me...
Going to SXC on saturday as a "judge" for a debate contest - Father Boris makes offers which cannot be refused.
India has me in her grasp now. Tight and secure.
Yet, the heart has a reason which reason does not know and it still straddles between Carlsberg and Kingfisher.
Well, further to my last post things are getting better now! I am liking it - being here, in this place, seeing these people, meeting friends (old and new), meeting relatives who love me unconditionally.... Love changes everything.
India is like Hotel California - you can check-in any time you like but you can't check-out.
Hoping to see Prero tomorrow.
Had a long chat with Percy today: it was full of nostalgia - our years together in Britain for 4 years! It was brilliant recollecting those days. Our days. Amader hullod.
Sammie busy tonight with party - wish I was there. I always disliked her friends because I felt out of place. Today I want to be there with her for her's sake. To see her. Oh dear, this is getting english-ly dodgy now! ;)
Meeting Mrs Choudhury tomorrow - the woman who introduced me to the nuances of the English language. I hope it goes well. I hope she is still fond of me...
Going to SXC on saturday as a "judge" for a debate contest - Father Boris makes offers which cannot be refused.
India has me in her grasp now. Tight and secure.
Yet, the heart has a reason which reason does not know and it still straddles between Carlsberg and Kingfisher.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
I never knew that I would REGRET coming to India. I am hating it out here. I just cannot adjust and shape myself to what folks want me to be here. There is a storm raging inside me, now, at this moment - it's causing havoc.
I want to go back. ASAP.
This is not my life. This is not how I live. This is not how I am.
I want to get in touch with myself.
I want to go back. ASAP.
This is not my life. This is not how I live. This is not how I am.
I want to get in touch with myself.
Monday, August 09, 2004
Master of Arts in English Studies
Well, another arc has been drawn, the thesis has been submitted - the M.A. is now unofficially over and done with.
As I look back, it's been a great experience - fear, anxiety, confidence and determination marked the last year. I have enjoyed every bit of it. Now, it is time to move on - to draw another arc, to travel into yet another unknown region and seek knowledge.
But before that ladies and gentlemen, let me take a tiny break from the world of academia. Let me return to my home, my country and smell the familiar...
Right now the only thing on my mind is that
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep...
Well, another arc has been drawn, the thesis has been submitted - the M.A. is now unofficially over and done with.
As I look back, it's been a great experience - fear, anxiety, confidence and determination marked the last year. I have enjoyed every bit of it. Now, it is time to move on - to draw another arc, to travel into yet another unknown region and seek knowledge.
But before that ladies and gentlemen, let me take a tiny break from the world of academia. Let me return to my home, my country and smell the familiar...
Right now the only thing on my mind is that
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep
And miles to go before I sleep...
Friday, August 06, 2004
Bring on the Music
I have been wondering about what music does to me. I am sure it does many things to many people out there. To me it does magic.
Whatever the occasion, whatever the mood - play a bit of music and you'll put a step into my walk. Take for example today morning...I wasn't in the best of spirits. I played some songs I had downloaded - and they just set me going. OK, I know I am repeating myself but you get the idea.
When I was six years old my mother forced me to learn music. Every sunday I had this music teacher turning up at 9 o'clock sharp, dragging me out of the bed and telling me to repeat various different ragas after him. It was horrible. I didn't appreciate it then. I use to lie to him - sometimes I had a sprained ankle, sometimes I had a stomach bug and at other times my friend used to have an accident. It took me a good twelve years before I came to realise what he was doing to me - where he was taking me...And the day it dawned on me, I felt like I came one step closer to God. I used to curse ma for putting me through the exams and the riyaz (the theory bit was horrible). I mean come on man, when you are twelve years old and you have a sixty year old bafoon asking you to state the number of beats in a certain taal, you don't find it admirable or worthy.
I have understood ma's wisdom now. She kept on telling me all these years, "Pele, when you grow up, you will understand the beauty of music, you will understand how precious it is." Yes ma, you win this time, hands down. Thank you for making me do this. It has brought me closer to so many people - people whom I didn't even know. I have a struck a chord with them because we felt the same tingling feeling in our hearts, because we laughed together, because some songs made us cry. And to me songs are also a beautiful way of remembering people in your lives who made an impression on you. Songs are ineluctably linked with memories.
Today I have like 6GB worth of songs - each and every one of them is close to my heart. And its not just the music but also the lyrics, the range, the soul-searching, the outpour of emotion, the power of the voice, the timelessness of the song itself takes me to a different world altogether. In fact music is one of THE things that still makes me feel that my trip back home is worth every bit of it. Our culture. Hemanta. Kishore. Lata. Mukesh. Debabrata. Suchitra Mitra. These are legends. If only I had an iota of their devotion, an ounce of their discipline....then I wouldn't be writing this today. I would have been on the stage.
But Jo Blogg did not take to the stage and Mrs. Blogg will not live happily ever after...However, music will remain.
Music will keep us alive.
I have been wondering about what music does to me. I am sure it does many things to many people out there. To me it does magic.
Whatever the occasion, whatever the mood - play a bit of music and you'll put a step into my walk. Take for example today morning...I wasn't in the best of spirits. I played some songs I had downloaded - and they just set me going. OK, I know I am repeating myself but you get the idea.
When I was six years old my mother forced me to learn music. Every sunday I had this music teacher turning up at 9 o'clock sharp, dragging me out of the bed and telling me to repeat various different ragas after him. It was horrible. I didn't appreciate it then. I use to lie to him - sometimes I had a sprained ankle, sometimes I had a stomach bug and at other times my friend used to have an accident. It took me a good twelve years before I came to realise what he was doing to me - where he was taking me...And the day it dawned on me, I felt like I came one step closer to God. I used to curse ma for putting me through the exams and the riyaz (the theory bit was horrible). I mean come on man, when you are twelve years old and you have a sixty year old bafoon asking you to state the number of beats in a certain taal, you don't find it admirable or worthy.
I have understood ma's wisdom now. She kept on telling me all these years, "Pele, when you grow up, you will understand the beauty of music, you will understand how precious it is." Yes ma, you win this time, hands down. Thank you for making me do this. It has brought me closer to so many people - people whom I didn't even know. I have a struck a chord with them because we felt the same tingling feeling in our hearts, because we laughed together, because some songs made us cry. And to me songs are also a beautiful way of remembering people in your lives who made an impression on you. Songs are ineluctably linked with memories.
Today I have like 6GB worth of songs - each and every one of them is close to my heart. And its not just the music but also the lyrics, the range, the soul-searching, the outpour of emotion, the power of the voice, the timelessness of the song itself takes me to a different world altogether. In fact music is one of THE things that still makes me feel that my trip back home is worth every bit of it. Our culture. Hemanta. Kishore. Lata. Mukesh. Debabrata. Suchitra Mitra. These are legends. If only I had an iota of their devotion, an ounce of their discipline....then I wouldn't be writing this today. I would have been on the stage.
But Jo Blogg did not take to the stage and Mrs. Blogg will not live happily ever after...However, music will remain.
Music will keep us alive.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
Questions.
How much are you willing to push yourself to make others happy? Others who are not necessarily "friends"?
What's the range of tolerance for "friends"?
What do you do when a woman cries?
How do you deal with stress?
When will you decide to put your interests first? Do you matter at all?
How do you know if you are in love with somebody?
How do you know she is the "chosen" one?
When do you give up?
How do you deal with anger?
What do you do when you are unsure if somebody is crossed with you? Ask? Sulk? Let it be?
What if...?
How vague can your questionings be?
Is tomorrow really another day?
Why am I writing this post? ;)
How much are you willing to push yourself to make others happy? Others who are not necessarily "friends"?
What's the range of tolerance for "friends"?
What do you do when a woman cries?
How do you deal with stress?
When will you decide to put your interests first? Do you matter at all?
How do you know if you are in love with somebody?
How do you know she is the "chosen" one?
When do you give up?
How do you deal with anger?
What do you do when you are unsure if somebody is crossed with you? Ask? Sulk? Let it be?
What if...?
How vague can your questionings be?
Is tomorrow really another day?
Why am I writing this post? ;)
Tuesday, August 03, 2004
The Sea, The Sea
It feels a tad strange to write an entry after quite sometime. Went to visit a friend at St. Ives last weekend. It was so stunningly beautiful. For the benefit of the busy-bees, St. Ives is a sea-side town - sea, sea and more sea....ah, I fell in love with it. Shani's place overlooks the sea front and when you sit in the drawing room (which by the way is the best I have seen in my life) you can satiate your thirst by looking at the sea.
The sea does something to me. Stirs the insides of my being and summons me. I obey. It is almost as if she is like some oriental enchantress with cascade-like hair seducing me. My mind flutters from one rising wave to the next and when the waves crash onto the rocks it is quite simply tranquillity at its very loftiest.
It was then that I kept on thinking that dreams, like waves, crash and shatter when they hit the headland called reality.
However, with all this rising and crashing (no Freudian pun implied) it was so peaceful. Shani went for work during the day and most of the time I sat in the drawing room and watched the sea. I also managed to get to the top of a small island and viewed the now-green, now-pale-blue, and now-metallic sea...Then there was the horizon - concave, iterating the fact that the world is not flat. Small boats made their way, English kids screamed at the top of their voices and the adults were, for once, shouting and laughing and having a blast! (oops, forgot to mention the bastard seagulls - what a pain - gkhah, gkhah, gkhah...uffffffff)
Then there was Shani's place - a small, cosy flat but most beautifully decorated. If I had to pick a house to live in this would be the one. Impeccable choice of furniture, perfect matching bed-linen and curtains, post-modern paintings and wall-hangings, soothing pastel shades on the walls of the room and a neat library that left me wishing for more!
Anyway, like all good things in life, the weekend came to an end. I am now back to Exeter. I have almost finished my thesis. The whole writing thingy is done - what remains is the assimilation. I wonder how it will look when I put all the chapters together, type the contents page, paste the bibliography and sign the coversheet declaring - "Submitted by Anirban Roy to the University of Exeter as a dissertation towards the degree of Master of Arts in English Studies by advance study." Nice, innit? ;) There is contenment at the sense of closure. I still have work to do though, words to delete, sentences to polish and paragraphs to be aligned. All in good time baby, all in good time! ;)
Everyday I keep dreaming about my plane touching the runway of Calcutta airport - shit man, it's bad - only eight days before I fly...my heart is racing and I can feel the Kolkatar-chengda-chele feeling pulsating in my veins. I will hear Tagore songs again, I will board 3C/1 again, will see my favourite Goldfish again....Damn, it's great to think of home-coming...(or is it going?)
Well, whatever this life may hold for me, I hope I can live it to the fullest - never ever getting to a point where I say, "I could have done this" or "Only if I had done that".
Life is too short for regrets. If you want to do something, do it now, right here. Your life is what you make of it - that's what the sea told me and yes, she also said that life is like her, full of turbulent waves - wild and calm, rising and falling - a scheme of binaries.
I believed her.
It feels a tad strange to write an entry after quite sometime. Went to visit a friend at St. Ives last weekend. It was so stunningly beautiful. For the benefit of the busy-bees, St. Ives is a sea-side town - sea, sea and more sea....ah, I fell in love with it. Shani's place overlooks the sea front and when you sit in the drawing room (which by the way is the best I have seen in my life) you can satiate your thirst by looking at the sea.
The sea does something to me. Stirs the insides of my being and summons me. I obey. It is almost as if she is like some oriental enchantress with cascade-like hair seducing me. My mind flutters from one rising wave to the next and when the waves crash onto the rocks it is quite simply tranquillity at its very loftiest.
It was then that I kept on thinking that dreams, like waves, crash and shatter when they hit the headland called reality.
However, with all this rising and crashing (no Freudian pun implied) it was so peaceful. Shani went for work during the day and most of the time I sat in the drawing room and watched the sea. I also managed to get to the top of a small island and viewed the now-green, now-pale-blue, and now-metallic sea...Then there was the horizon - concave, iterating the fact that the world is not flat. Small boats made their way, English kids screamed at the top of their voices and the adults were, for once, shouting and laughing and having a blast! (oops, forgot to mention the bastard seagulls - what a pain - gkhah, gkhah, gkhah...uffffffff)
Then there was Shani's place - a small, cosy flat but most beautifully decorated. If I had to pick a house to live in this would be the one. Impeccable choice of furniture, perfect matching bed-linen and curtains, post-modern paintings and wall-hangings, soothing pastel shades on the walls of the room and a neat library that left me wishing for more!
Anyway, like all good things in life, the weekend came to an end. I am now back to Exeter. I have almost finished my thesis. The whole writing thingy is done - what remains is the assimilation. I wonder how it will look when I put all the chapters together, type the contents page, paste the bibliography and sign the coversheet declaring - "Submitted by Anirban Roy to the University of Exeter as a dissertation towards the degree of Master of Arts in English Studies by advance study." Nice, innit? ;) There is contenment at the sense of closure. I still have work to do though, words to delete, sentences to polish and paragraphs to be aligned. All in good time baby, all in good time! ;)
Everyday I keep dreaming about my plane touching the runway of Calcutta airport - shit man, it's bad - only eight days before I fly...my heart is racing and I can feel the Kolkatar-chengda-chele feeling pulsating in my veins. I will hear Tagore songs again, I will board 3C/1 again, will see my favourite Goldfish again....Damn, it's great to think of home-coming...(or is it going?)
Well, whatever this life may hold for me, I hope I can live it to the fullest - never ever getting to a point where I say, "I could have done this" or "Only if I had done that".
Life is too short for regrets. If you want to do something, do it now, right here. Your life is what you make of it - that's what the sea told me and yes, she also said that life is like her, full of turbulent waves - wild and calm, rising and falling - a scheme of binaries.
I believed her.
