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When Serendipities Occur (The Letter) July 27, 2008

Posted by sauvik in Dreams, Thoughts & Silences.
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Hi Sweetheart,

My inbox today shows a chain mail of 16 conversations with you.It reminds me of our chat logs at TVM, sort of. :) I just woke up from sleep, and since then was thinking of you. What you would be doing, how you would be celebrating this 24 th bday of yours. Feels great aint it? Birthdays are always special. You get noticed, you get all the best wishes from the 3 corners of the globe. This wish wrapped in an email, is not really from any of the corners of this planet earth, its from another world.

I have lived upto my reputation of not gifting you anything to you ever, I have failed to write a beautiful something for you, my health didn’t permit it. You know, every night I hug my pillow and go to sleep thinking it’s you, and the first thing i hug when I open my eyes to the brilliant sun, is the same you, that I have imagined to have. I have a certain you in my mind, and I just don’t wanna loose it, the feel of it. I love you this way sweetheart.

Remember the first time we kissed? Remember, the first time we held hands, it still sends a shiver down my spine, I still, even now after all these months, try to be the person “we” used to be. The way we used to love each other, the way we made the nights shorter and the days longer, just because we only each other during the day. You are still the same old dream for me, that never died, and I just dont wanna loose it to anybody. I love you this way honey pie.

Everytime I see DDLJ I feel sad, everytime I see Om Shanti Om I feel happy again. hee haw. Stupid I know. But still, there’s a sweetness in stupidity too. And talking of sweetness, no one can match yo ever, in my eyes, You are a sugar pie, you know that? A quarter of your life, you have lived, another 3 quarters remain. Remember how we used to joke …that at 80 you how will be all toothless, and walking with a stick? and you used to laugh at it. The picture still looms over my eyes, your jubilant, free flowing laugh, your sparkling eyes, filled with love, and hope, your hands grasping my arm.Your nails digging in my skin, I used to love that feeling. I used to look into your eyes, secretly, searching for a secret key so that I can lock the happiness and still the moment. But, you see sweetheart, happiness is in letting go. I love the moments we have lived, but I am not, “in love” with the moments we have lived. That’s when real happiness comes, that’s when, true love evolves and that’s when serendipities occur. This is the way I love you angel eyes.

My mother tells, you have to make three wishes, every year, on this day, It’s like a starting the rest of the life from today. Whatever you do on your birthday, you do it, the entire year. So, what’s your 3 wishes for today? But, there’s one catch to it. Whatever you wish this birthday, you will have to(atleast get close to it) fulfill it till your next one comes by. Thora wish karo. Thora dream karo, understand honey pie? Write your wishes, in a paper, wish for where you want to see yourself the same time, the same day next year. Read them again and again, and get it into your heart, and the next year, try and find an answer to those, wishes of the past. This is what I call moving along with your past, working through pain. Pain will always be there, it will always work against your will, your ego. You can’t remove hose thorns. What you do is, you work through them. Thats where winners stand apart, that’s when you become the driver of your life. I want you to do that. I love you this way, cutie pie.

Happy Birthday! Sweetheart!
Many Happy returns for this day!
Enjoi!
And don’t forget the wishes!

Love,
sauvik

The Trauma of Unity in Diversity July 10, 2008

Posted by sauvik in india.
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How logical is india’s slogan “unity in diversity”. unity is india’s potentiality and diversity is the reality. does potentiality and reality ever match? these are not peas and carrots as they are shown to be in india. a purely hypothetical phrase, its like two ends of a string which will never meet. however hard one tries it will be more and more messy. the root is where the attitude is. where there exists some dozen different religions, four scores of cultures, hundreds of languages, thousands of dialects in each language, how do unity arise? after all unity is not a word formed of the 5 alphabets. how will india progress? how will india merge into a single decision? how do we make an understanding with other neighbour when the neighbour himself wont understand us. this unity that exists is merely a politically enforced one. the unity is just superficial. inside india is crumbling. its crushing under pressure.

one says ” i love my country, i love india.
but i hate these biharis they dont have any culture..see..
then these bengalis see them…always so selfish.. thinking about themselves always,
now now, dont u dare talk to me about the south indians, they should be omitted from the map of india. these guys you see dont even recognise our national language. they dont speak in hindi.
and how dare you support the marwaris. so shrude, always grouping amonst themselves.
See how people live in america… such a beautiful place. why cant india be like this?
see microsoft, world’s largest software firm. my dream job!! oh god..
some day i would like to be like Bill Gates. my role model”

Height of patriotism. what does he love about india? perhaps even the speaker isnt very sure of the answer. he talks of brain drain. but after some 2-3 yrs even he’s a part of it. he listens to Kalam’s “vision india 2020″ and the next day he has a flight to catch to the states for his new mindblowing job. what does this particular guy like in india? how can he contribute to his country’s developement? how can india grow up with these attitudes running in their bloods. they love to see tom cruise doing unrealistic stunts in MI2, but when our country men perform the same old stunts they are not impressed. they are not wooed. when do they stop worshiping the western world. they forget their own abilities, in their rush of licking the western masses. how many of them want to become an APJ Abdul Kalam or a Ratan Tata? hardly a handful. hence india is sinking. Why this obsession with everything imported. Do we not realize that self-respect comes with self-reliance? this above guy’s answer is there’s no scope for his improvement in this country. he is getting the best of the moolah in america. he’s getting well paid for his job in the gulf. of what he exactly deserves. he says india is not going to change. the entire system is corrupt. what he will he do alone being an honest IPS officer? he will be transfered to some desolate place, or he will be murdered the next day. and he wont join politics for the same reason. fine, done. i admit that he cant do anything in this deep dark world of corruption.

ask him a question… ” do you love your country?” he will say “yes” a blattant answer. atleast do these as follows !!

1.stop pissing on the walls.
2.stop spitting on the roads.
3.stop throwing cigarette buds under your chairs so that nobody would notice.
4.clean up your pet dog’s affluent droppings on the street.
5.pay for the bus tickets when you travel.
6.dont travel ticket less in a local train.
7.stop chucking an empty coconut shell anywhere in the roads.

Even if not for the love for your country, for the sake that you are an educated person, and that when you can respect and conform to a foreign system in other countries you can also do that it in your own.

These are the first steps in loving india. if one cant do these things, how can he even pass the IPS exam? how can he ever dream of changing india? one should first teach the baby to walk then to run, otherwise he will stumble and fumble.

i would like to quote a certain paragraph of apj Kalam in this respect.

“Like lazy cowards hounded by our fears we run to America to bask in their glory and praise their system. When New York becomes insecure we run to England . When England experiences unemployment, we take the next flight out to the Gulf. When the Gulf is war struck, we demand to be rescued and brought home by the Indian government. Everybody is out to abuse and rape the country. Nobody thinks of feeding the system. Our conscience is mortgaged to money.”

Yes india does have a unity amongst all its diversities. and the sad part of the story is india is united in their obsession of the western world.

And along came Dreams July 5, 2008

Posted by sauvik in poetry.
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I

When the pain subsides,

I close my eyes, to get back my past

Hallowed memories burn and blur!

Life has not been

The dream I saw!

I turn every page, to see it bleed,

I turn every corner, to wish you were there

The sun is so silent, the moon burning!

The night gave the pains

And along came dreams!

II

I so wish you would come,

Hold my hand, take my breath,

Into the cages of love!

I wish I could have held your hands till eternity,

Bring you flowers, and write you poetries,

I showed you my dreams,

But,

You gave me fresh blood!

And along came my dreams

The Children of the Sky July 5, 2008

Posted by sauvik in poetry.
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The Children of the Sky

[Inspired from the movie, "The city Of god

The smoke is overflowin’ from the trembling berretta,

As the human Gods rant and rave, of a ruthless vendetta!

Gift them a flower!

Sing them a love song!

The earth is smokin’ smudging the wet painted skies,

As the tears rebel and tender hands hold guns n’ agonies!

The man down there is bleeding; can you buy him a stairway to heaven?

As the blue bird comes and waits; can you give him his childhood once stolen?

Gift him a drop of water!

Sing him a lullaby!

The earth is smokin’ smearing the hallowed sun,

As the tender minds smoke, snort and kill, to become a man!

Has he been crying the entire night? Starving since the full moon?

Did you hand him the gun that day? Did you help him paint the skies maroon?

You gifted him a chain!

You sang him a war song!

The earth is smokin’ because you lit the fire,

As the children of the sky, wait for the summer’s ire!

The man up there is unforgiving, can you pay back for the freedom; you stole one day?

Did he sing you a lullaby? Did you ask him a drop of water?

He sang you a love song!

He gifted you a stairway to heaven!

The earth’s smokin’ because you gave him the gun,

As you lie writhing in the city of gods, a peeping sun!

In Search Of a Mother July 4, 2008

Posted by sauvik in fiction.
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The loneliness

Rajat has been living like this since the past 2-3 months. This self proclaimed seclusion has made him more resilient and indifferent towards life, or so he thinks. At times he feels if he’s behaving alright or not? His depressing ways of leading life has made him think of changing at least for his own survival. But unknowingly he has found a way to vent out his frustration living like this. He’s learnt not to give a damn to this world and the people around him. He’s learnt not take things to heart, and just shake off the dirt of his body, if by chance he rubs shoulders with somebody. He was contemplating on taking a week long leave from office and set out somewhere, his excuse to himself was to escape to Calcutta dust and the human griminess. But the real reason was, he knew; was he was afraid to face the realities of his own life anymore. Incredible India! The advertisement in the web page read, he clicked on it, a few links here and there and few pages refreshed and he was looking at mystic Arunachal Pradesh. The lazy hills undulating caught Rajat’s fancy. He loves to travel around, it takes his mind off, makes him feel human again, amidst all this madness.

That night Sreelekha had called up Rajat. It was half past midnight. Rajat had been expecting a call but it was undesired. They used to talk late, very late, but that night everything seemed unusual. She was sobbing uncontrollably. He just listened, until Sree started speaking.

“Just tell me what you said that day was a lie. Please Rajat tell everything was a lie.” gasped Sreelekha.

Rajat still remembers the first time they had met, the first year of the medicals in the anatomy practical at the morgue. “What an incredible place to find your soul mate”, they used to joke at the fact. But everything seemed so smooth, in this relationship of theirs. The 8 year long courtship, the secret meetings, and the nostalgic walks through the rugged lanes of the college street and then there was obviously a break at the coffee house.

“You know me Sree, I have thought over it, and I have let you know my decision, don’t push me over it.”

“But, Rajat you just can’t end everything, as if you had been the only one in this relationship.”

“I have given this decision my everything, you have to accept It.” said Rajat.

“You people are fucking mad. All of you people are freaks, your mom, your dad all of them” shouted Sreelekha as she banged the phone down.

He had felt his blood boil over, but deep inside he knew that what Sree said was right, and something inside him told that Sree knew it. She knew everything. It’s not that she didn’t want to compromise but Rajat just couldn’t agree to the fact where his life would lead him to.

The bitter-sweet past

Year 1994;

That was the fateful year, when his mother’s illness was first detected…

It was a happy time for the family. The youngest member has been born to Rajat’s youngest aunt, Nilanjana. The entire family had gathered in their family home at the Dover lanes, and there was laughter all around. Every face wore a smile for that day, and it seemed like everyone’s coming up with their indigenously novel idea of naming the baby boy. Somebody suggested “Joy”. Rajat was ecstatic because he had never seen a new born before.

“You are the big bro now”, Nilanjana smiled at Rajat.

“Ol, mol, bol, pol…Oh Yea, yap…. bubu, lulu….!” Rajat replied without looking up, he’s been busy with youngest member ever since he came into the house.

“Here take him to your arms, hold him.” said Nilanjana.

“No, no he’s too fragile, you hold him, I‘ll take him once he’s a few days old. Nilanjana just gave Rajat a caring smile.

“Mashi, now you have two sons! Whom would you love more?”Joked Rajat, after everything had calmed down, and Nilanjana was rummaging through the gifts for the huggies pack.

“Two sons… umm … yea … let me see… whom would I love much? Nilanjana came near Rajat, ran her fingers through his curly hair and said, “Why? Both of them equally.” She could feel a tinge of disappointment in Rajat’s eyes. The sadness she knew was because of his mother.

“Rajat, you should consider marrying, you are already 32 and it’s high time you thought of it”, Nilanjana searched Rajat’s eyes hopefully for an approval.

“Mashi, you know, I won’t marry unless Ma tells me to!” said Rajat, and I can’t leave off my responsibilities, just for the sake of living happily, I can’t be so selfish”

Rajat had a motherless childhood. He has always felt a dearth in the bonding of every relationship since childhood, and it has increased more as he reached his adolescence and then adulthood. He has always been close to Nilanjana, since the day he learned to say, “Ma”. Rajat’s mother was kept away, from him. Rajat was her obsession. She loved him. But she loved him unnaturally. She feared that whenever anybody would come near Rajat, they would steal her son away from him. She would not let him come near Nilanjana. She loved Rajat like she possessed him, but Rajat started thinking on different lines. He started avoiding her. He wouldn’t come home after school, he would cocoon into a shell in the presence of his mother. He used to go to Nilanjana, and find a mirror of his mother. From herein started the rip in the family, in the sisters; Nilanjana was helpless, Rajat’s mother relentless. The condition went from bad to worse, Nilanjana finished college, she got married, Rajat lost a mother; his dad decided to take up a job in Dibrugarh, Assam, for the sake of keeping his mother away from him. And consequently Rajat was admitted to a hostel in Calcutta. It happened so fast, at the blink of an eye, destiny intervened. Nilanjana used to go to Rajat every weekend, her new home was close to Rajat’s hostel. She used cook him chicken, and bring home made gulab jamuns and Rajat never complained of a mother. It was always such a happy reunion of a “mother-son” that maybe even destiny feared for this relationship and never intervened. It grew in leaps and bounds, it blossomed, and Nilanjana was suddenly a mother. Rajat wondered why he can’t call her that. But he could never understand why his mother hardly visited him. He talked to him on phone; she visited him in vacations, but never stayed. He started covering his glum with dirt, time and insomnia. But he grew up, loving his mother like his aunt, and his aunt like his mother. That’s why he never understood the geometry of relationships… Maybe that’s why he didn’t understand Nilanjana too…

The Sacrifice: Mother and then Son

“But, Rajat, You know your ma’s not well, and you have a life too.” said Nilanjana.

“Why did ma get married Mashi? Didn’t you know that she was not mentally capable to go the distance? Don’t you people feel guilty for ruining 2 more lives?” blurred out Rajat all of a sudden.

Nilanjana was taken by surprise, by this sudden outburst, “No, Rajat, it’s not what you are thinking.”

“You don’t see, how Bapi has struggle with ma, his entire life, and he stays quiet, that doesn’t mean that he’s living a ‘life’…” shouted Rajat, by now he’s got up from his chair, and pacing around the room.

“Rajat, sit down,” Nilanjana tried to calm him down, “your ma’s schizophrenia wasn’t acute that time, and we had no clue whatsoever, that it can develop to such a stage. Even after marriage she didn’t have any problems in adjusting to life. It was only after your birth that she started to show signs of acute mental stress.” said Nilanjana.

Rajat was not convinced. In his childhood he had lost a mother, found the mirror of a mother in his aunt, but he has realized that he has started losing her too. But he was a child then, he ran where he found love, he was driven throughout his entire childhood, by the lack of love. Now when he sees his mother suffering silently, craving for him, it singes his heart. Nilanjana often talks about her elder sister to him. She is a great woman. How she had struggled her entire life, how she had supported her 5 siblings, working over here in Calcutta, when the entire family was in Bangladesh. How she had sacrificed her own career and became the only earning member in the family. She filled up the vacuum for an elder son aptly, yet she was neglected all the time. It’s the society, the perversion of the then politically and religiously crippled society that made a retard out his mother. In those days it was a sin for an unmarried woman to go out of the house, leave aside, staying alone in a different country and India was sacrilegious, to East Pakistan (Bangladesh) back then. But she was adamant, she had taken the responsibility, and she was sure that she would see it till the very end. She had not taken a step backward; she had not buckled under the pressure, she had a vision in her mind, and she stuck to it. These are the words that constantly hit Rajat’s conscience. A woman who has struggled like hell, shrugged aside by the society, dragged to the extreme, exploited mentally, should deserve better. If she can sacrifice her life, for her siblings, for her family, for her, responsibility, he too can for the sake his “mother”. It’s time he gave back to her, even though she’s not in a condition to recognize it, but still it’s for the sake of his love for her, his own peace of mind. After all following your heart is nothing but selfishness.

He came back early that day, to his flat. He still remembers his mother retreating into the corner of room, when she heard that he won’t be staying tonight at her place. She had pleaded him, crooned to him for staying, but he didn’t. He sat back into his chair, with a can of cold beer, contemplating on what the doctor said last week, that his mother is improving, but it’s not stable yet. The phone rang. It was Nilanjana on the other end.

“Rajat, Sree called, you didn’t call her for the last 7 days. She’s worried.” said Nilanjana.

“Silence…”

“What happened? You should give her a ring back, and yes, drop by our house tomorrow for lunch Joy was asking for his dada” added Nilanjana.

“I have been from ma’s place just now. She wanted me to stay… with her..!”

“Silence…”

“Tell Joy, I ‘ll come tomorrow.”