Sad news for music:

The key vocalist and percussionist of Indian Ocean Asheem Chakravarty expired of cardiac arrest on 26 the December. Singing and playing the tabla with all the passion and perfection, How many such rock star are their? Indian Ocean by virtue of their originality and experimentation was always a source of inspiration for me and on that very day we got another very sad news. Indian branch of World space radio is filing for bankruptcy and it will no longer be in air after 31st December, 2009. It is my only source for uninterrupted music since last two years. Be it classical (Indian, western, Karnatik,) Rock (hard, soft, alternative) Pop country or what not .Thinking is the only activity I do without getting bored and alas two of my great inspiration for my nonstop beberibang (gibberish) is no longer their.

Through the window

Of me and the world

Of me and the world.
Why separate ways for the two?
I stayed back; within me
He proceeded all the way through.
Who is lost?
And where?

The inner self and the outside, why the path tearing apart?

Thats the question in this phase of Jatra

art:Dr.Uddip Talukdar

The Power of Mind

Human mind, to what extend it can be used, the possibilities is still a mystery. We know so little of it.
‘Can events to follow can be changed simply by power of your thought’ is one of my fundamental thinking over the year.
I have been trying to explore the mind and getting myself trapped in the dark avenues many times.
One of the directors I admire for his successful cinematic depiction of minds path to (through) such avenue is Krzysztof Kieślowski, the Polish legend. In his movie ‘The Double Life of Véronique’ {a polish/French (Italian?) bi (tri) lingual made in 1993} he has beautifully tried to portray human feelings in celluloid.
The possibilities of exploration and directing the future of a person by free will is what a puppeteer in this movie was trying to do and getting little success also. It is a subplot but I was fascinated as the thought of the plot and convinced him to portray it in the movie. The question that bugs like ‘are we puppet in the hand of some unknown ventriloquist ‘Are we creator of our own destiny’,’is everything happening here is predestined or coincidence’ are best explored in this film. The best part of is that it do not answer any of the question, it just portrays the visual narration of human mind through breathtaking cinematography, editing and script (or the thematic plot).
Rightly so because the same thing is perceived so differently by different people.So why should we go for a totalirian ending to such a difficult question?

Slave

Last night, as usual I was alone and thinking nothingness.

I couldn’t find my cell phone. I was wondering how to get up in the morning for duty as my cell phone is my only alarm clock (calendar, secretary, postman, en all after my laptop).

I have a landline, but TO MY UTTER SURPRISE I don’t even remember my own cell number, let alone others. So ringing up to find where it is, is also out of question. I tried the net if some friend is online I can ask him to give me a call (so that I can trace my mobile), but no one was there. Then the server speed got down.

After a while light went off.

I was all alone in the dark, just helpless and not knowing if I could join my duty on time for next day or not.

Oh my god, I seem I stopped thinking also

Take off ,Phase 2: continues :Rebel without a reason

Rebel without a reason

Rebellion is on
Without weaponry
Without comrades
For no reasons
Or accreditation;
No one is oppressed
Or the oppressor.
Only the rebellion is on.

I hear the roars of rebel within, against the system we don’t like to accept

This phase discusses that part.

Few go for a revolution that deviated form its path

Few become REBEL WITHOUT A REASON

Jatra Phase 2 -Take off in a Nectarous Evening

Nectarous Evenings

A Nectarous evening

Satan worshipers were our hearts.

Accompanied by:

Roasted meat called dream..

Smoke filled whirlpool,

Deafening music!

And in rhythm-

We, the thirsty vampires.

Our destiny-

A spread cerulean body,

Brackish vein’s drinks,

Hungry denture in roasted heart.

The ecstasy of retching- after the booze.

A Poem for Jim

the man who symbolizes the affinity for booze, poetry and ecstasy of a young mind. Like that in its take off, Jatra discuseses the hidden Jim inside all youth.

Watch the video @ :

http://ishare.rediff.com/video/entertainment/jim-morrison-jatra/779780

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uz0011Qn2p4

Of Creative fiction:

As a result of fight between
Catnap & compulsion
Profession & Obsession
Egos, Dreams & Agonies friction.
Prose came for my salvation
In the form of creative fiction.
Spontaneous Unplanned, guided by compulsion.

Above my logo:artist :Dr.Hirak Das

Phase 1: Boarding in - Jatra

Faded Jeans Ideology

Each and every moments of faded jeans ideology

Over cafés, parks and 100cc bikes.

Sleepless nights on songbird’s blues.

Through the coloured spectacles

Canteen, party and evening’s blue guitar;

Bitter smoke filled time on cards

Everyday. …Every night.

Amidst them, please don’t bring up-

The stench of bland truth,

Reality of dreams, someone’s sad elegy.

They are just paper boats

Floating on the turbulent drunken river

‘This is life man, its basic appeal’!

At first it’s all fun

Phase 1 is about friend’s en all

Life seems all the very romantic here

See the video @http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOX6TMOGB_Y

or @ http://ishare.rediff.com/video/entertainment/jatra/768254

Check In:The proposition for Jatra

The Launch

After birth – the crying

Then the slumber of forgetfulness,

Slowly its adolescence,

Thereafter comes youth.

Youth hood is none but a dream;

What after the dream?

That’s what Jatra is all about

Flight of a young mind.

Dream starts here!

Welcome to the journey

Art: Dr. Uddip Talukdar

Jatra

A Collection of Creative Fiction in Assamese (My first one)

Cover curator: Dr.Uddip Talukdar

Unknowingly Jatra has turned out to be a compilation of phases of the most striking portion of life - Youth hood.

I started writing short stories for friends en al who were not into creative line and were complaining about the metaphysical content of my plays we used to stage in mid nineties. All I wanted was to compensate for their criticism. So in the beginning my stories were funny based on day to day experience of early adolescence, I used to play with the wordings & narrative stunts only.

But as the journey progressed, and we all metamorphosed into various individuals the contents, narration & essence of our definitions changed and at the crossroads of life-jatra become my prospective view of flight of a young mind in search of exactitude.

Stories were written over last fourteen years and already published in premier Assamese literary journals like ‘Prantik, Sadin, Satsori, Jonosadharan.

About Denial Projection and my spellings:

I am too a mortal human
You know one of the basic human defense system is denial (Ask a drunkard –he will deny that he can not live without drinking) and projection (Remember block buster: Diwar: jao pehle us admi se sign leke aao jisne mera hatho Mei yeh likh di thi).
So it is a basic human nature to create angel and demons out of ourselves in order to project our faults to other. We come out with great man’s quotation, statistics, case studies etc etc.

IT seems I have a big learning disability. Whenever whatever I write (or type) there are thousands of spelling mistakes. Check any of my blog there are heap of spelling mistakes many time MS word software is at lose what to do with my spellings?
Assamese is the language in which I think, I learned to talk, and Assamese letters are the first letters with whom I had fallen in love. But my Assamese spell sense is as worse as English.
How to defend myself?

I came out with two greatest original thinker's philosophies: Feynman and Asimov .

Dr. Feynman observes that "things have gotten out of whack in the English language," which leads him to ask, "[w]hay can't we change the spelling?" In what may be taken as an expression of exasperation with his colleagues in the liberal arts, he declares: "If the professors of English will complain to me that the students who come to the universities, after all those years of study, still cannot spell `friend,' I say to them that something's the matter with the way you spell `friend.'"
Wah sir kya bad hain.

Asimov jumps right in and makes a stab at some suggested respellings. Consider "through," "coo," "do," "true," "knew" and "queue," he asks. Why not just spell them "throo," "koo," "doo," "troo," nyoo" and "kyoo"? These respellings would in fact fit within some familiar reform proposals, though perhaps few reform advocates would go along with his assertion that the obvious respelling of "night" should be "nite."
Thank u both of u for coming in my favour.

Independent nothingness

Camera in my hand after a long time

A wet lazy independence day

through car-window in Dehradun street.

How I forgot to KISS

An ascent to perfection!
Was our motto once upon a time.
Though never reached that pick it becomes a compulsive thought process to search the real truth in everything. A very totalitarian & un achievable concept !
Long back I realized the relevance of Einstein’s relativity in day to day life- nothing is perfect; no body can be perfect. (Even MJ had a defective nose.)
But that bug (of searching the truth) persisted,
And while looking for perfection I forgot to KISS i.e.
To keep it simple & straight.

Mr. Bond-the real one.

It’s been one year since I met Bond-Mr. Bond-the real one.

I went went to Mussoorie for an interview for Assamese literary journal ‘Satsori’.

I met him for the first time in 2007 through two nature lover .Dr.Anurag & Dr. Sonjoy Das. What attracted me was the simplicity of that man. Writing just for the love of it. Living a very humble life among nature.
A man with mountains in his blood who prefers to live in independent India for the love of Himalaya, Alu tikki and the company of his friends.

watch :http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tfViShTBP4M

http://ishare.rediff.com/video/entertainment/bond/769499

Genius & arrogance

Last week I saw two docu film based on two iconic personalities –Jim Morrison & Salvador Dali.
Dali was kicked out of art school because when teachers asked him about Raphael Dali answered back that my knowledge about him is so much that you sum up your knowledge my knowledge will be much more than it.
Before dying in an interview the octogenarian celebrity said ‘A genius like me needs to live.
Well the other man?
Jim Morrison, the drunken buffoon? The master of dreamy poetry? The fore runner of cult rock culture-what ever you call him, people still admires him
Even though he stripped down in a full house show & veiled at his fan ‘you are a bunch of F***ing shit’

Why deny?

While India was busy dicussing Indian Election Britain was reeling under a scam !

Like all Indian I too proud of our Indian morality.
Our grandeur let us believe that and we come very hard at proving against it .that may be a big portion of us are against Agiga’s ‘White Tiger’ ,the average novel wining Bookers or ‘Slumdog Millioner’ another average movie (in the history of cinema) sweeping the Oscars. What lead to such flare of temperament?
I believe our persistent denial of the dark side of India.
And we are very much ashamed when our dark side is shamelessly exposed we are petrified. (Of the bitter truth).
But denial won’t help us removing the dark side.
Take the case of British MP scandal. It’s a shameful event in the history of one of the oldest model of democracy.
But look at the other side too, a Member of Parliament is using tax payers money for watching pornography on net or buying pet dog food. But once it has been disclosed they all said sorry (not the usual denial).and what happened when it was proved that one cow is eating food worth billions of rupees in Bihar India? Answer from the then chief minister was ‘Why are you asking me? You should have asked this question to the cow. (Yeh chawal aap gaay se puchiye Na, mujhe kyu puch rahe ho?’) No justice done .that leader is still a big shoot in Indian politics.
It’s because we deny the bitter truth
As there is non acceptance of truth, where is the chance of improvement?

Habib Tanveer

Just got the news Habib Tanveer, the eminent theatre personality of India passed away. I liked his husky voice, his style of acting, his persistent effort to for theatre. Last year I had the opportunity of reading his play ‘Agra Bazaar’ liked it a lot.
I will regret not to see his play live.

The Power of Music

I am a frustrated CMP (confused mass of protoplasm), they say.
And they are right too. Never happy with life. Never satisfied with any works be it cinema, book, music I always have my pseudo intellectual criticism over everything. As if I know everything!
But three days ago I had the fortune to attend one Indian Ocean concert by chance that too in first row, which I attended thanks to a good friend of mind who provided the information & free pass and my rare good luck. And once again I observed the power of music.
And the group as ever was original, like a demon with all the ruthless energy their kind of music requires.
I said to myself ‘what do I have to complain about'?

Here is a link of one of their unreleased album which is a fusion of original Assamese folk song, improvised in the way of rock genre.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=azq0Rcr68M8

Yeh Dil mage more

I often hum one of my favorite childhood jingles ‘I have got money, penny everything, but I ,,,,,,,,,,,;
Yes I am not happy with the life the way it is neither a single person who are around me
Why….?
I don’t know May be Life is a big bottle of Pepsi…
‘Yeh Dil mage more '

Insomnia:

When night comes & everyone (I think) asleep.
Something creeps into me
I toss up restlessly in my bed.
Through the grasshoppers sound
Till dawn
With out reason, provocation or anticipation
Waiting for the soft embalmer
I know John situation you too had gone through.



( Downloaded sketch showing the John Keats asleep)

Raga’s of Mind

News that I read in paper quite moved me.
Its about 'Kumar Gandarva’s son traced begging in street'.
I got to know
He is a celebrated vocalist himself.
His kid is also a upcoming Hindustani classical singer
Some says for booze
Some says he is not mentally stable!

Also read:http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/India/Kumar-Gandharvas-son-found-begging/articleshow/4537328.cms

Of movies and life

I remember John Travolta in ‘A love song for Bobby Long’. He played a one-time University professor of literature Bobby Long and his former teaching assistant, a struggling writer (Gabriel Macht), living illegally in a dilapidated faraway country house. Both men are heavy drinkers who while away their days smoking numerous cigarettes, quoting Dylan Thomas, Benjamin Franklin, and T.S. Eliot, playing chess, and spending time with the neighbors while Bobby strums a guitar and sings melancholy country-folk songs .They were heavy reader though They do nothing,
BOOKS books books! Is it everything? Asked an eighteen year old girl heroine Scarlett Johansson.

In the movie ‘Almost Famous’ An upcoming teen age Rock journalist (Patrick Fugit) is, A ferocious Rock critic (Philip Seymour Hoffman, And a Rock star (Jason Lee) ask themselves ‘real music’ Real music’ ‘Real Music’ what actually is real music. While trying to achieve real music all are lost in the whirlwind of life.
Many times I ask myself the same thing.
‘Movies', 'books', & the 'meaningless fundas' which don’t have any meaning
And the answers suffer the same fate as in the movie.
And reconcile with my lot.

‘Yeh Jina Bhi koi jina hain’?

I am not happy with life
So you are
We are in the same boat brother (& sister)
And we often yell ‘Yeh Jina Bhi koi jina hain’?
That’s the problem with us .

We are not happy with our present stat of mind and we don’t know what we actually want.
So we sing karaoke to this famous Amitabh song.
Even though we know ‘ the concept of utopia of peace and happiness is pathetically comic even in comic books’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SmB2UW-RtXg

Beberibang

I am
Sad
Angry,
Restless,
Frustrated,
Petrified

About things I can’t change (not even myself)
Wanted to be uncompromising
But can’t stop the inevitable

(i.e. my reconciliations with reality)
May that’s why I am what I am
Not what I used to be.

“Village of Service”

Last week I visited a village in eastern Maharashtra state,originally called Segaon, the village was given its present name Sevagram by Mohandas K. Gandhi in 1936 here he founded another ashram and directed the independence movement of india.Within this he created a model community that still flourishes, in which the inhabitants still lives a simple & progressive existence.
It was a lovely experience to feel the spirit that still lingers.

The story of Muzaffar aka Vivek

In time like this (as always in India) in a place like Gujarat known and interpreted otherwise we got to know and share the story of Muzzaffar.We are unhappy, angry, annoyed, frustrated with whatever is happening and the way media present them to us.
That’s why the true story of Muzzafar I read in TOI is comes to us as a ray of light to me.
I hope same will be feeling of other who has not read it yet.
If you are down due to social reason and want some positive vibes please go through the 1Link:  
in 2013

Juxtaposition

Sometimes the two poles of none existent truth and the ever troubling relativity meets each other. This correspondence that took place near bout eighty years go is one of the finest example of it.

Translation:

Respected Mr. Gandhi !I use the presence of your friend in our home to send you these lines. You have shown through your works, that it is possible to succeed without violence even with those who have not discarded the method of violence. We may hope that your example will spread beyond the borders of your country, and will help to establish an international authority, respected by all, that will take decisions and replace war conflicts.With sincere admiration,

Yours

A. Einstein.

I hope that I will be able to meet you face to face some day.

Gandhi's reply to Einstein - Source: Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi, vol. 54

LONDON, October 18, 1931

DEAR FRIEND,I was delighted to have your beautiful letter sent through Sundaram. It is a great consolation to me that the work I am doing finds favour in your sight. I do indeed wish that we could meet face to face and that too in India at my Ashram.

Yours sincerely

M. K. GANDHI

If it doesn’t exist; why to search for it?

Truth!
Truth nothingness, or whatever we may call it.
Ans: Because we cant stop being ourselves even if we want so,
So like it or not we have to keep doing what is being expected from us in whatever best sense possible to the best of our judgments.(which we fail to do)
The greatest truth seeker to me is the man in the picture.
I admit he never reached it. But he experienced the pain in the path seeking the truth.
Thanks ‘lage raho…..’, his existence were kidnapped and ransomed by the politician and pseudo intellectuals and we Gandhi’sm became a dirty word.
Though Munna bhai brought the old ideas back in fashion still over restora’s, coffee shops and bar addas Gandhi bashing is the fashion and people don’t contradict to that as nobody wants themselves to be ragged and dragged in adda halls.
That’s the way we are paying our tribute to the greatest truth seeker of present world history.
I can’t blame the society because now a days I tam also guilty of being a mare silent observer as I believe I cant change a single thing around me even if I want.
That’s why he is great because he not only changed himself he took the country along with.
Regrettably he couldn’t change everyone!

A relative world.

Why nothingness is the other name for nirvana.
Because there is no absolute truth. Whenever we come to a conclusion we know that we have reached the relative absolution. This curly grey haired man has changed every definition we have ever believed ever since.
Everything is relative.
So what is truth?
Nothing!
We salute you Einstein.

Nothingness –the other name of nirvana

Nothingness –the other name of nirvana

Whether we talk of absolution, super soul, real truth, or anything
or we can refer to it as nothing....

A full Story on Nothingness  

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