A Makeover

For long I was planning to write blog and it chanced upon that my other blog got reports from my great classmate, Mr. Anirbit Mukherjee. Well yeah, may be it’s not nice on my part to have published about a personal chat between two persons. It’s just that I got excited because the topic of this chat was the same as the one on which I had short heated arguments with Mr. Mukherjee; short because, though people might not believe, i am a bit short tempered.

Well, this is not about the aforementioned blog or the chat. I’m not going to do that mistake again. This will follow a pattern that the article that is going to be commented upon had used. This is a set of comments on the article of comments; though I’m not that adept or mature enough to comment on articles of those people who I feel think they are writing an editorial on how things can go completely wrong with no chance of reprisal.

Well, if comments about personal conversations cannot go public, then personal ideas about public issues should be managed more diplomatically. But, my complaint about this article is neither about the writing style of this article nor am I judging or critically analyzing. It’s just that if a person gets to know the author at a more personal scale, you get to determine his/her beliefs and actions. There is truly never a limit to a person being a hypocrite. If any person who knows a little about the subject that is being talked about you can see these contradictory paragraphs appearing. There is a time when Mr. Mukherjee seems to see elementary facts to be too elementary and at times, slightly higher level realizations to be rather high.

And now coming to the point about Expectations. Expectations are common as a person. But, expectations do not alone form the basis for life and interests. I do agree that it’s mars the mind at least for a short span of time, when expectations are not reached and I definitely agree that there are things in life, in which a person should not by any chance compromise. But, at times, even such situations do arise, due to their non-zero probability, and adaptation in such a situation is must.I completely agree with the author in few of the issues raised in the article. But, it seems that the author’s pedagogy is totally pessimistic and does not have a well defined set of principles by which he measures and concocts subjects. My view of the article is that though the article issued a disclaimer in the prologue, it lacks complete sense as the issues raised were public. And giving a personalized opinion as to how the things are to be run, such that the author can live “happily ever after”, seems to me a coup d’etat on the part of the author.

Again a personal opinion, but this time it’s mine, is that, rather than a single person setting  up the rules and creating the same problem as the existing one; a change has to be made where one gets to choose after a certain point of time  the path that he wants to take. There is a negative side to this too. There can exist cases where instead of taking a path, one takes up various paths, so that the end is reached without any substantial increase in level by taking up random elements, here and there. Well, this might be solved, if an interaction process between us and the teachers be made such that one gets to decide on a particular path. If one is unable to decide on any, then he is to take a path set up by the teachers.

That’s all I have to say.

P.S. : Everything above is written in a very general fashion without pointing at anything specific or trying to point at the situation that has made me write this.

P.S : But, there  is one point that I wanted to be specific about. It’s regarding the admission into DTP, TIFR. As i might have mentioned before, that author seems to lack complete knowledge regarding the interests of his peers. It’s not that they were not taken into DTP, it’s just that no one else’s topic of interest was offered in DTP. And, for the sake of illumination, everyone got into the department of their first preference.

As the morning washed the remnants of a long night, beckoning the bloom and caressing the withered, I slid out of what has been the most restless of my nights; dotted flamboyantly with the sardonic and soporific images of the insignificant impromptu.  Well, that should do for the usual cliched description and boring imagery. But, does brevity span the abnormal? I guess not. It’s never too late to realize this. As the train of disconnected but meaningful thoughts flowed through the leftovers of last night,streaming a headache. A remnant, a hangover, the effect.

Situation may seem abnormal, but the cause needn’t be. And the cause being normal does not reflect upon the abnormality of the effect. Well, to stick to this philosophy I shall give the mundane cause behind this incongruous effect.

As usual, a delightfully late entry into the crowded cake shop marked my unobserved entrance. Found out that the special was the tempting mixture of black forest dipped in orange nectar and topped with orange. A tangy temptation. After managing to squeeze two out of the counter, I came and sat at the already occupied table. No response; even this is usual. Was I ever punctual? As Rembrandt put it {\emph Sincerity is the eventual deception of all great men}. Well, I never understood this.

As an author, everyone faces difficulties in voicing their opinions. Some are cordoned by self restrictions, some by personal affairs and the others by society. I thought I have been always free of these. But now, mine seem to be of the second type. I can write fluently and do not care about what the society thinks. But, it seems you have to be bound lest your pen runs free. Sincere apologies to all the red pens that strike through the life, for this comment; you are just being dumb like the donkeys that were tied to grind-stones with their eyes covered, who think that they have travelled miles. The other day I published my third of the anthologies. Maybe it got personal. Well, it is impossible as an author not to give out something personal some time or the other with or without realizing. I realized the adverse effects of this only now. A core collapse, distant and cold looks. I sandpapered my throat with the tangerine sands, considering an elopement from the clutches of everything; to a place of serenity, sanity and solitariety.

That’s what had happened. After that everything was a blur; a storm of emotions crashing upon a damp cliff. The precipice below which lays the society. A salinated tangy flavor broke through the softer parts of the hard set stone. And fissure upon fissure formed in the stone by the violence of love. And then I thanked the one. Crumbled.

“Farewell.”  That was the word that I fumbled as I made an exit. Coincidence? The word that changed my life. The reply that answered itself. I woke up to live the life this has presented me with. It will never be the same again. I will go to the shop again to have the day’s special.

A cold, bleak morning. A door opened. Neuvo sol. Eustache walked out leaving a trail of sleep behind him. Normandy! flowers. Bleaker. And a contemptuous voice says, “Life goes on”, another flower falls asleep imbibing the sweet sleep of Eustache, the ingratiatory welcome of Monsieur Kart(MKart).

“Long live,Caeser.” Poor Eustache, attained a higher level of awakening with this untimely road show of the dramatists as MKart vaporised into them. Realisation always comes late. Well, maybe it’s better to have a slower realization of things. That’s what Eustache always believed in and followed. He never cared to understand anything unless rudely smacked right in the face. Surely, It did dawn upon him now, in the form of an archway leading to a vestibule on the other side of the street which was strewn with yellow daffodils and blue daisies. Probably, some leftovers of devil’s work.

Arch did seem familiar. As he entered, he heard someone cackling against the slow drip-dripping. It seems to be a day of realizations. As realization buried him in it’s wings, his shook under it’s warmth and felt himself aged with no thoughts except the horror. Yes sir, this is the place where he worked. Where he did his rather rudimentary and incomprehensive job. You might guess this from Eustache’s description of the place as a dinghy, dark, asylum for localising highly mutinous kids,a palatial mansion! Talking about the kids, those morose, wily, blood-thirsty, inquisitive and above all stupid blighters who used their brains only in unsuccessful attempts to eradicate Eustache, thier tutor.

So much for the stupid detail of the stupid kids. “Clip, Clop, Clip, Clop, Clang”. Not only a day of realizations but a day of adrenaline too. Kids are devils, they have managed to set an armour on a horse after him. Well, what do you expect to do in such situation? Flee, he did, the athlete propelled by the adrenaline and a reason that he is trying to find a reason to live. Alleys passed, and it grew dark. Is it a solar eclipse? Well, I don’t expect to use my time up in examining whether it is or not. But, he is Eustache, the inquisitive teacher. Another realization, phew! A whole army against him. Seems that kids have reached a peak, coming in full force as the Dark Lord Sauron against the Eldar. Eustache drew himself up in the open space, just to feel more miserable about the vastness.

Exhaustion. Tired legs and body trying in vain to replenish the used up adrenaline.He stopped. The cackling, a hollow and sonorous one drew closer. He reached out his hand to finish it off for once. Cold, hard and stinging surface met his hand, a tumbler? The impetus to end turned into a corrugative bang on the head. All fell silent. He basked in jubiliation in the emptyness as it got filled with more and more familiar faces who came to inquire and congratulate him. The drawing room, another trap? The sinuous evil cackle closed upon him yet again …………

I hate the bloody alarm clock with snooze instead of shut-off switch.

Well, maybe you can call this a review… but it is just another of my reflections and thoughts. Narayan’s style of writing has always fascinated me, the words “lucid style” put forth by many authors for the works of Narayan, never made much sense to me. You call the style that presents the deepest of the meanings in subtlest of the ways “lucid”. Well, I do agree that the flow of the writing is fluid and the theme naive. But, only once you start looking into it do you find the connections woven throughout the book subtly, deftly and in fact really smooth.

My latest of Narayan’s work is the aforementioned title. It was truly brilliant though it cannot replace “The Guide” from the top of the list. The setting was the same (Malgudi), people similar and the protagonist leading a common middle-class life. But, the whole profile of the story reflected upon the aspect of the human character of greed, beliefs, relations, money and faith.

This can be suggested as a must read if you want a “lucid” imagery of Narayan’s Philosophies in Life, his observations on the wants and lifestyle of an average Indian family at the time of writing.

Kite is a kite as kite is. That’s how the day started off with a spam sms from one of my friends. When asked what was the meaning of this, an AM style cool reply “- it’s the subtle yet direct nature of spam.Found it funny”. It seems I am not yet a worthy child blessed with the powers of acknowledging subtlety or find a set of incongruously arranged words funny.

Forgetting about the kite where neither the kite not the kite has any part to play let’s get to the better part of the day where swarnavaster after a not so dry day in CMI, was asked by akfu to take his wet clothes from akfu’s room. Then, swarnavaster took the line out and tied the ends to the door handles of G2 and G3, turned around which the usual “benign” smile of his and told “And hence, I joined the doors by a non-trivial knot”.

I was aghast with the proceedings of the turned and immediately walked to my room to drown myself in slumber … a world of my own

p.s : title plagiarized (making obvious statements is fun….like, i’m going to have a tough time in my JEST tomorrow )

well .. the first line has got nothing to do with the rest (the alternative style of RoVeR…the jobless me).

Acknowledgements : CMI’s cat(s) and dogs.

This is a changed title … It is not the title that was meant to be … it was “The Cat and Dogs”. But, keeping the future in mind as K suggests, the title converted itself.

Now now, we are getting nowhere. Cats and Dogs are man’s friends. (Hu)Man is a social animal. As animal rights activists may put it … Society consists of animals others than humans. Hence, this dedication.

Cats are surprisingly the most fearful animals. Don’t get carried away by their innocent looks … they can bite within a few moments of you playing with them. This is a personal experience.

After a few months of keeping away from the cat .. during the holidays, when I was as usual bored. I played with the cat. It was fine for the first day .. the second. After a few days, I was standing in the corridor and the cat was going around my legs as I was not showing any interest in playing with it. Then, all of a sudden it jumps and tries biting my knee. My reflex sent it flying … the flying cat.

Dogs .. I don’t have much experience with dogs except that my roommate starts running away as soon as he sees it. If he were stay here for about 4 months more in CMI … then Vin is surely going to slim down to arnie’s size. A very good way to make sure he jogs daily … I tried a decent bit, well … do you guess I can put fear into him.

So much can be told for sure that Cats and dogs are not man’s best friends. It’s only the inanimate things that can be animated which can take such a position.

Random statements :

Cats eat mice. APA wants to eat the cat.

Dogs chase cats. Dogs and cats chase Vin.

Cat, the janitor. (My most favorite title for the movie with CMI’s cat as the protagonist)

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finally a move from the old blogger to this on advice of quite a few people …