Art in its purest form

The master had set the stage, for the craft to evolve in its purest form. Today, the stage serves as a global platform for art connoisseurs to strengthen their roots in poetry, literature, history and archeology. Perhaps, my trip to Shantiniketan was an artistic revelation. Finally, my long lost desire had come alive at the onset of ‘PoushMela' (one of the most celebrated fair in West Bengal marking the beginning of harvest season). A trip which was too good to forget and a destination which should be on the itinerary for anybody who applauds art.

The sprawling expanse of the VishwaBharati Campus is filled with clay ladden artifacts, tiny little structures, abstract paintings on buildings, human structures made from marble and decorative art on the trees. The perfect muse for an art afficinado. Even the flora here is fascinating enough to draw your attention. Everything here spells creativity.

Evolution of art in the most intimate manner will take you in its lap where you are bound to get immersed in the world of kavi guru Rabindranath Tagore. The occasional chirping of birds interrupts the astute silence which prevails everywhere at the VishwaBharati Campus.

The Chatim Tree has not lost its charismatic stature. It still stands as a reminiscence to the golden era of Rabindranath bringing the anecdotes of his teachings to life. Legend has it that Gurudev used to teach student sitting under its shade. He used to gift the leaves of the trees to his favourite student as a token of appreciation.

Chatim Tree

As an artist there is no boundation to give your creative genius an uplift. Just take a look at this splendid hut painted beautifully with artworks and paintings.

 Walking across the campus, you will frequently come across artists sketching live surroundings or a human caricature. I came across one.

  

This one's for you...

Dedicated to somebody I love the most

Love is not…

about spending time with each other

But about GROWING together in a relationship

about expensive gifts

But about the precious THANK YOU's for everything

about theYour's and Mine's

But about the OUR's in little things

about holding hands

But about STANDING FIRMLY behind each other during the worst

about showing the love to the world

But about lying in each other’s LAPS in solace

Love is…

about that sensuous kiss

After that UGLY FIGHT

about that baseless fight

For that last piece of CHICKEN WING

about forgiving the other

Even after the ENDLESS WAIT at the station

 about taking the bow

to keep the flame of ETERNAL LOVE alive…

FOREVER

Blurred Lines

Its been more than 20 years, there has never been a single moment when David could ever express his desire for  anything from his father. Whenever he did so, his father would give him a disgruntled look and say, “You have scored very poor this time in maths. How could you even think of that?”

This went on for years and had become an excuse for David’s father to keep him away from all the childhood desires. Intact, there has been many times when David asked his father for dresses or toys but like every time he was returned back with a vague assurance for a great payback. There have been very few instances when David would ultimately get a gift or something as a token of appreciation for his ‘good marks.’ The constant rejection from his father had ultimately put all his expectations under that sheet of dust which had transformed itself into a thick layer of mud. It would not remove now so easily.

David was now a 28 years old man married happily with a wonderful girl. Both of them, had a stupendous relationship with each other. When they used to get out in public no body could imagine thatthey are a married couple. With so many years after his childhood, unfortunately, David still couldn't establish a good relationship with his father.

The father son duo still had a transactional relationship unfortunately and over the years it had blurred. David's only concern was that the relationship should not evolve into a ‘ cease to exist' relationship. After David lost his mother, his father was the one with whom he had a formidable relationship in the family. Eternally, he never wanted to end this only left relationship especially after a year of his mother's death. His father was 58 now. With age, a man not only expects much from his children but sometimes forgets that his interference might become a cause of irritation for the one's living with him.

David had almost stopped communicating with his father now. There hardly used to be any communication between both of them.

“Why do our very own seem like nobody and why do the lines of relationships blur with a close family member like father?” thought David everyday.

May be it is due to the high expectations set by parents or is it a generation gap?

David is in still in quest of the answer and may be one day he will find it.

The Questionable Identity

Belief is what binds us together, when it comes to religion. From worshipping a stone to tying threads around a banyan tree, there is an eternal belief in each one of us about the existence of a super natural body – GOD. It is this belief, which we carry with us everywhere in the form of red threads tied firmly around the wrists, a loose thread with a tiny metal around the neck and in many other forms in the human anatomy.

From childhood we are taught about deities who are supposed to keep an eye over all our doings and manage this universe. The strange thing is that we never get to see this omnipresent divine power or witness its existence.

Like every other Indian child, I too was taught of worshipping God. Ours is a family which strongly indulged in religion. Infact, I have taken ‘guru naam’ (chants of a particular religious leader) wore a black thread around the neck. I continued to practice it till a certain time. No doubtI grew up to be a staunch believer of God, unless one incident in my life forced to question the identity of God.

We are always eager to know what lies ahead of our life. Bright or gloomy days ahead, a simple or a great career, an astrologer seems to be our life saviour or our guide who shows us what life has in store for us. In our case, it was my mother’s illness that had been disturbing us since the time she was diagnosed with cancer. Worried about her health, we consulted two astrologers (to be precise). Just few months before her death, both of them gave an assuring reply giving an indication of no bad results. No doubt their reply was followed even by an emerald to drive the evil away.

Much to our astonishment, it was just 5 months later when my mother passed away. Her deteriorating health had given us a clear indication that it was her time. There wasn’t an iota of doubt in that. Subsequently, just after a month of her demise, all the divine beliefs had catapulted to a dried vessel which was empty. It seemed as if it was broken by a stone and the water in it had flowed away with a promise of never to return. So, this one incident was enough for me to wash away all my beliefs on the divine power.

From the time immemorial, we are taught about the presence of a certain force called God or Almighty or The Divine Power. We worship them in photo frames, as marble statues, stones and trees. But their existence is a questionable identity to this and the coming generation.

I still have faith in God. No doubt it has reduced since the untimely death of my mother. I just want to know about the truth of his existence and let the world know about it.

P.S. ALL THE VIEWPOINTS EXPRESSED HERE ARE MY PERSONALEXPERIENCES. THERE IS NO INTENTION OF HURTING ANY RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 

Burning Live!

She was never so cruel before

It had become unbearable

All these years,

She was sweet enough to be tolerated

But it was this year

When she broke all my expectations

Turning them down into dust

And stabbed me from the back

Could you be this cruel?

Could you be this disgusting?

The sheer thought of your existence

Now kills me

Even the air is now filled

With your unbearable touch

You have infected it

With your infectious loo

GO HEAT, GO AWAY

COZ WE’RE BURNING LIVE HERE !

Image source: Google Images

The perils of technology

Technology has taken us in it's shackle. Well, in some cases it can prove to be fatal

Flip Flap

Let's flip flap the phone and the train

I still hear it

I still get to hear it often on buses and trains...........lolzz

Don't jump to conclusions

Hey Guys! presenting a witty post. Click on the image and read it till the end. DON'T JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS......

Grief of losing a mother

Walking through the snow

Gulmarg is a desert of snow. An experience you would never like to forget. Here's my video from Gulmarg trip

The Storyteller

The greatness of a thing cannot be measured by its size, but by its eternal beauty. Well, this is what I concluded when I came face to face with the mountains at Pahalgaon. The clouds hovered here and there near the peaks as if they had bustled there to appreciate the splendid beauty. The huts adorned them as they rested peacefully in their lap. The occasional sounds of sheep grazing were interfered with a whooshing sound of water which emerged from the streams of Ledar River that ran just below them.

And the mountains? (even the locals couldn’t name it) oh! they stood silent and unperturbed. They continued to amaze me as well as the other tourists who were capturing their humbleness in the DSLRs, Tablets, and Smartphones.

As I was walking across the Ledar, thousands of pebbles lay all over by the mountains' side. Each one of them HAD A STORY TO TELL…….

Some of them had a story of love inscribed on them, some of them had the story of winter to tell while some of them had a tale of history waiting to be deciphered to the ones who had visited them for the first time and I was one of them.

They slowly echoed in my ears, “You were destined to find me and witness my existence.”

The Quaint Valley

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page”

Quite similar to the quote above, I read the book of happiness as I set out to explore the ‘Land of Heaven,’ recently.  As I turned the pages of the book, I came across many chapters of happiness, solitude and streams. The first chapter was a story of ‘The Quaint Valley.’

Patnitop was indeed a place that showed me what real natural beauty was. Pine trees standing tall amidst the lush green valleys greeted me with their magnetic charm. Hidden behind them were snow-capped mountains; a sight, which I imagined while I was given a drawing assignment in my school as a child. Wow! The scenery was now in front of me. “Is it real?”I questioned myself after pinching my hand few times.

Somewhere, the birds chirped as it welcomed me to their land of solitude. I stood at the valley for a while and could sense the utter silence. The silence of peace that prevailed everywhere filled each part of my body with happiness.

Now, let the pictures do the talking for you…………….

When singing goes in vain

When a Bong meets a non BONG

Diary of an unlucky child

A page from the diary of an unlucky child who lost his mother at a tender age

Image credit : N.L Photography

 

Feb 28, 2016

It has been more than a month, since I have lost you. You are still in my mind every now and then. I’m not able to forget you so easily. I struggle every day to forget you, but somewhere fail to do it, because the memories are still so fresh in my mind. It was as if yesterday when you were staring at me, trying to speak your mind but couldn’t say it. I could understand your pain, but couldn’t express it to you how bad I felt about it.

You have raised me, bearing all the tyrannies of life and never wanted that I should come to Kolkata even when you wanted me the most. You are not with us anymore, but each od us, especially me feel your absence every now and then. I have not put your picture in our room, that’s because I feel that you are with me. Again, I am forced to accept the harsh reality of your non-existence.

People say time heals the wounds of pain and sadness, but the pain of losing a mother takes the maximum time to heal…..I don’t know, whether mine will heal ever.

 

 

 

Rainy memories

The bird makes a chilling shrill and flies away over the orchid tree as I watch it through the windowpane of my office. A thundering sound follows with a few strokes of lightning. Clouds begin to move as they embrace the sun. The orchid tree is not visible anymore; it’s silhouette proves it’s only existence. Suddenly, a huge thunder strikes and the splashing sounds fill my ears. I open the window, let out my hand and feel the cooling sensation of the first raindrops.

Image source: Google Images

The pungent smell of the earth evaporates from the ground and fills my nose with a sensation; a sensation that I had been experiencing since the last 27 years. It’s a kind of aroma that makes me feel good, it is like honey that is freshly collected from the honeycomb and is feed to a person for the first time. There are memories attached with this smell. I have spent my childhood in multiple cities across India and one common thing that keeps me connected is the smell of the rain.

I carry the smell of rain with me wherever I go.

How?

As a child, I have spent a significant part of my childhood in Agartala. I remember, after a rainy day, in the evening, I used to observe streams of rainwater flowing down from the muddy slopes. Once they dried up, the smell of fresh mud used to fill the air with its significance presence. I used to look around and observe our house all drenched and wet. My mother used to be busy cleaning the drops of rain that assimilated near the windowpanes.

Later, as we shifted to Kolkata, the smell of rain or the smell of earth just after the rains became more significant. The clogging of water near the gate, the sudden rush of people to protect themselves from getting wet, the slow moving of trains and the nearby pond that used to look beautiful with water lilies.  

In Delhi, I spent most of the time alone and during a rainy day (if it was not a working day) it was lonelier, but the fresh smell of the earth just after the rains used to cheer up my mood by bringing back beautiful memories. Now, as I am writing this post it brings back the memories of the lonely time I have spent with myself in Delhi.

I want to end with this twisted short poem

Rain Rain don’t go away

Don’t come again another day

Rain Rain don’t go away

The wandering mind wants to play…..:)

The Break

So, I took this break from my life in New Delhi in October. For the next few months, I stayed at Kolkata for some family reasons. I found a job at the City of Joy and also started to earn a living too. It’s always amazing to relive in a city where you have spent all your teenage years.

 I revisited those places again which used to fill my heart with joy when I used to visit them as a teenager. The ‘Bonedi Houses’ with their humungous white pillars, the green tall-arched windows with multiple panes, the pungent smell of the mud at the tea stalls, tram lines making their way through the streets, the shrill voice of conductors shouting the name of stations, the political banners with slogans of development and protest and the new Kolkata with my grown up eyes

.

On the other side of the break, was the modern Kolkata. Sky touching buildings, extravagant nightlife, vibrant and colourful Durga Puja and what not. Wait! there is a lot left to discover in this beautiful city which was once the capital of India. My break will not end without discovering the other gems of Kolkata.  

Image credit: Team BHP

Music to the ears

Ever since I started my first journey in train, I have developed a special connection with it. Well, it would be wrong to call it a connection because it’s an experience that I relive every time I step in a train.

The constant rumble of the engine and the honk of the approaching train add music to my ears. This music has no tune, no rhythm but has a vibrant soul. A soul that encapsulates all my childhood memories and brings back the sceneries of lush green grounds, desolate lands, children staring at us in groups from their playgrounds or cattle grazing in the fields.

As a child and still now, another experience that I crave for in a train journey is that slight motion that constantly moves you when you are inside a moving train; and the most magical moment comes, when you have plugged in your ear phones with your head placed over the cushion. To me, the experience is like a lullaby. Like a mother trying to put his son asleep.

 Sometimes, the most enchanting experience of music comes not from the kind of tune or the quality of sound you hear, but from the moment, you live in. 

5 Unusual Valentine Gift Ideas For Your Spouse

Believe it or not, the phrase “Getting married is the best thing on earth,” can never be true until and unless you and your spouse continue to keep the flame of romance burning. No day is better except Valentine’s Day to express love for your hubby or wife. So, what does Valentine’s Day mean to you? Proposing your partner with a rose or taking him or her to a dinner date? Well, over the years, they have become such clichéd ways to celebrate the day of love; so, why not do something different this February and surprise your better half?

Take a look at these five unusual ideas to rekindle romance with your spouse this Valentine.

Image Source - Google

 

1.       Write a letter

It might be an old way to express love, but take a break from Whatsapp, Hike and Facebook, instead write him or her, a love letter. Take a break from the digital world and go the old school way of proposing your honey. Reading your feelings on a paper sealed in an envelope or knowing the 14 reasons why you love her will make your better-half feel special.

2.       Do a photoshoot

Drop the idea of taking numerous selfies or a snap with your partner, rather go for a professional photoshoot. Just imagine a shot where you and your better-half are holding a signage that reads ‘Knotty Couples.’ Won’t it be cool idea?

3.       Gift with a personal touch

A wall clock with you and your sweetheart’s picture taking marriage vows or a calendar with you and your wife’s selfies above each month. You can surely triple the love and surprise your fiancée this Valentine purchasing such cool stuff from this website.  Well, there are hundred more creative gift ideas at this website.

4.       Celebrate the day with a foreign culture

Do you know that Japanese women gift chocolates to men on the eve of Valentine’s Day and baked buns are served in Britain on 14^th February? Well, if you are looking for an unusual way to celebrate this Valentine, then turn the day more romantic with an international feel.

5.       Surprise your spouse at the work place

Get a hold of your spouse’s planner and know whether he or she has any meeting dates with clients on Valentine’s Day. If not, then turn up at the office anytime and surprise him or her with a bouquet of red roses.

Gone with the water

It was a matter of few minutes, when the flames engulfed her in its arms. The purity and charm that had cast a magical spell on everything around her disappeared, leaving a large vaccum. The word, ‘Life,’ now ceased to exist for her and became a memory for her near and dear ones. No, not memory, rather memories because she used to spread love in a way which would never erase from anybody’s mind.

Her son, whom she believed was the only source of happiness and a medium to express her grief was numb as he saw her lifeless body. He carried the pain of her non-existence for 3 years, but that day torn him apart. The inconsolable mind was curious to find a source of relief, but time and again it was transported back to those moments it passed in love and care. He couldn’t hold it for long as tears rolled down his eyes thus helping him to vent out his emotions.

And then came the final time to bid adieu.

 

There was nothing. Only a few ashes were left. Ashes that had no meaning now; they flowed away with water leaving behind ripples of pain.   

Closed Eyes

I see the world in gray and white when I close my eyes. Thoughts from the past surface and pull me towards them. Episodes of life again surprise me, sometimes shock me. The characters in the episodes  are different, confusing and difficult to relate. Once, I saw my cousin cuddling like a baby in my arms, but when I woke up, I realized that he is all grown up now.  Closed eyes, they take you to a world that will never come across in real life.

Image source: Frankbarker Photography
 

 

When the world makes noise in my mind, I let those eyelids down, bent my head against the soft cushion of my bed and let the moment pass by. The thoughts, they slowly calm down like the waves of the sea and reach the shores of silent.

I plug in the earphones and relax with closed eyes. The thoughts that play hide and seek throughout the day in my mind finally settle down and form a creative chain that either results in a poem or the thought behind my next project.

Memories of the bygone era

Somewhere in Esplanade, Kolkata, is this place that is away from the usual humdrum of life. The picture was taken on the first day of the year. When the world was busy celebrating the arrival of yet another year, this place still stood silent witnessing life passing by. They might not have crackers to celebrate or an instrument to play, but they have memories. Colourful memories that bring back the ever refreshing moments of the bygone era that are framed in their minds forever.