Raaga...!!

I've always been inspired by Nick Hornby's books. Was highly inspired by High Fidelity in my college days. The book was about this guy, his pals, his exs, and his love for music. But the most hilarious part that I remember was, that, he'd a habit of making a top five list for every little things, for e.g, Top Five Favourite Movies, Top Five Favourite Dialogues etc. I've been trying to make a habit of doing something similar for sometimes, but never managed to do so, as I start floundering by the time I reach top 3, evidently this hobby was never my cup of tea. But as far as music is concerned, it is extremely important for me, very much like that chap from the book. I love to sing, though I am no great shakes there and I love varied music, starting from Begum Akhtar to Pink Floyd. And I pretend not to cry when I hear something really nice (a habit that runs in my blood, courtesy my Mum & Sister).

The whole point of blogging today from office at 4 pm, is that I've to write about this very nice song, that came out almost 6 years ago and I am still obsessing over it, it's "Mathura Nagarpati" from OST Raincoat, this acclaimed song is written by Rituporno Ghosh, a Bengali director, who dresses weirdly, and have been flaunting his acting talent lately, might I add, he did a fantastic job in writing this song. The song is written in Brij Bhasha, and it talks about Lord Krishna leaving Mathura, where he's the king and going back to his childhood place, Gokul, leaving his Kingdom, his crown, his wife, to meet his beloved Radha. The song questions Krishna's reasoning for doing such an act. This is written from the point of view of one of his wife, while witnessing the change in him, knowing that he cannot be stopped and will return eventually to Radha without a backward glance, while she will be left behind. This is such a heart wrenching depiction, isn't it?

I came across its English translation on net. It goes like this:

Subah subah ka khyaal aaj
Early in the morning the thought arose
Wapas gokul chal mathura raaj
to go back to Gokul, in the king of Mathura's mind
Mathura nagarpati kaahe tum gokuljaaon
Oh lord of Mathura why are you going to Gokul
Manohar vesh chhod nand raaj
Leaving this beautiful attire oh son of Nanda
Sar se utaarke sundar taaj
Removing the beautiful crown from your head
Raj dand chhod bhumi par vaaj
Giving up ruling this world
Phir kaahe baansuri bajaao
Why are you playing the flute again?
Mathura nagarpati kaahe tum gokuljaao
Oh lord of Mathura why are you going to Gokul

Kaun sa anokhageet gaye pee kakool
What unique song did the cuckoo sing
Raj paat jaise aaj bhaidhool
That made you leave the throne like so much dirt
Kaun sa anokhageet gaaye pee kakool
What unique song did the cuckoo sing
Birhan laage phir hridaya akool
That the pangs of separation are stirred anew
Raj kaaj man na lagaao
The heart is no longer in kingly matters
Mathura nagarpati kkahe tum Gokuljaao
Oh lord of Mathura why are you going to Gokul

Poor naari saari vyakul nayan
Men and women watched with anxious eyes
Kusum sajaa lage kantak shayan
The flowers strewn on the bed felt like thorns
Poor naari saari vyakul nayan
Men and women watched with anxious eyes
Raat bhar madhav jaagat bechain
As Maadhav stayed awake the whole restless night
Kaahe aadhi raat saarathi bulaayo
Why did he call the charioteer in the middle of the night
Mathura nagarpati?..

Dheere dheere pahunchat jamuna ke teer
Slowly he reached the shores of the Jamuna
Sunsaan panghat mridul sameer
Lonely banks, soft breeze
Dheere dheere pahunchat jamuna ke teer
Slowly he reached the shores of the Jamuna
Khan khan madhav birha madeer
Madhav felt the bittersweet pangs
Use kaahe bhool na paao
Why can?t you forget her
Mathura nagarpati?.

Tumhari piriya ab puri gharvaali
Your love is now a complete housewife
Doodh navan ghivoo din bhar khaali
Getting new milk and busy the whole day
Biraha ke aansoon kab ke,ho kab ke ponch daali
The tears of separation have long since been wiped away
Phir kaahe dard jagaao
Then why awaken the pain again
Mathura nagarpati kaahe tum Gokuljaao
Oh lord of Mathura why are you going to Gokul

P.S. Hear it first thing in the morning. This song creates longing and a sad, poignant pain.

Gobsmacked

Oh God I am feeling so bad, I don't really like the picture I am seeing of my self. I wish the ground below could just swallow me. It all started the day I choose to study MBA, Mrinal being Mrinal convinced me that it is the right thing to do, cause anyways I have lost all interest in Physiotherapy and the subjects I'd studied in my graduation. Deep inside I've always known it's the right thing to do. In the process of it all, I got my first proper job while pursuing MBA, ( I have managed pretty well as I attend weekend classes, though it's extremely difficult coping with both). During all this time (while studying) I have never missed an opportunity to remind him, how he is not helping me enough with my subject, how instead of answering my query he simply ask me to Google it. This always complaining and putting the blame on him has become a second nature to me, I guess, and I am not feeling proud to admit that. OK so from past many days I have been tearing my hair over my final semester Project & Synopsis and I've been eating his head with constant blabbering. Few days back I'd a huge row with him, my days of submission are just around the corner, and I badly need his help with my submissions. He went all gaga about how I should not be sulking about doing my own work and that I should do it on my own to learn the process and all that jazz. I walked out of the room resenting him for being so right. Though we made up quickly enough but I was still seething & worrying about the damn synopsis. We didn't spoke about it again as I vowed not to ask him, he also didn't mentioned it.

Today this very good looking guy came over on my bay asking for "Moushmi Mam" (I simply shriek at the sound of some one calling me Mam, as if I am some specky school teacher), as I didn't know him I didn't corrected him about the "Mam" bit. This guys was looking nervous, with fumbling hands, fifgeting on his pocket to bring out something, he kept fumbling for so long that I've to pretend that I haven't noticed his nervousness.

Tete-e-Tete

I: "Yes", 
He: "I have brought your synopsis. It's on my data card.
I: ( I was like 'my jaw landed on the floor')
He: Finally handing me the data card, "you just check it and let me know if you want any changes"( blah blah I was only half listening, too shocked to come to terms with what he was saying)
I: Like some sleepwalker in the middle of an experience, I simply nodded, while I saved the synopsis on my workstation.
 In a muffled voice I just managed a syllable about it being perfect. Too ashamed to look at him.
He: OK Mam (Taking the card out of the socket), he smiled.
I:  I kept looking at him too aghast to smile. Finally Thanking him, before I forget my manners

I immediately called Mrinal and in a sheepish tone
I said " Hello",
He:  "Hi", (I can hear it in his tone that the devil is laughing at me)
I said: You didn't have to do that.
He: Do what? Sending a good looking guy to you.
I: You know what I mean
He: I would like to be told for a change though.
I: I am perfectly capable of doing my synopsis
He: Thats predictable come up with something more creative
I : Thank You
He : He simply laughed one of those light happy laugh


I put the phone down thinking that's the biggest surprise he gave me till date. Just wish I could surprise the devil himself equally some day. Just the thought of him putting some one to work on my behalf, he made me feel like a queen as well as a bitch all at once. How can he do that I am still wondering. Though I am not complaining.

Bong Connection !!

I'd few funny experience in my last Kolkata trip. Firstly, let me clarify I am a hardcore bong girl and I take great pride in my bangaliyana. Recently, I went to Kolkata for my cousin's wedding after and we (me & hubby) were very excited, as it was our 1st trip to Kolkata together after marriage. My last trip was on Feb 2007 with my friends, and boy was that fun. This trip was special as I was going there for the first time after my marriage and meeting with my side of the big fat family after ages. Yes, I love this old fashioned city named Kolkata, right from the intriguing salesman, chaiwallas,  Jhhalmudiwala to the trams, taxis, filthy roads, Ganga, Howrah Bridge, I love everything about this place. Like they say, people make the place, have a tete-te-tet with any of the locals and you'll understand the meaning of satire, humour, quirky, tight-upper lip, straight face comedy and what not, they all are hardcore humorist (or maybe leftist), but they'll make you laugh your ass off.

One afternoon, while we were roaming around, we decided to take a haath rickshaw ride, so I went upto this rickshawala, who was obviously taking a nap, I called him and asked him for a ride, in response he gave me one of those dhutth chhai, disgruntled look and muttered "dekhte parchen na ami ghumochhi"(Can't you see I am sleeping). I was left agog with surprise, that he is more keen on sleeping than earning few bucks was actually shocking for me. I couldn't help laughing at his laziness. But in retrospect I realised, for some people it's not always about the money, that doesn't always includes the rich. Another ingrained quality that bongs have is their love for literature, they might be bathing in the pond but they'll know all the verses of Shakespeare, they know all the Tagore's poetry by heart, their chest swells with pride for Satyajit ray, they will teach their any form of art, be it dance/ music/ painting/ drama/ poetry/ recitation and they love to flaunt the fish they eat. Hilsa, chingri, papda always makes a good topic of conversation. And I've not yet started writing about their love for politics or football.

Their no frills attitude keeps them grounded, they don't have a religious bone in their body, they believe in celebration. They celebrate the Goddess, and  indulge in building the biggest, grandest of pandal and pomp and show. They rather have a good time than keep praying and asking for all the materialistic cravings from God. A steamer ride in Ganges was in my "to do" list this time. We took the ride on one of those rickety boat, with some tourist and some locals, the tranquility of the setting sun and us on a boat to oblivion will remain on my mind forever. We went to Belur Math to see the evening prayer, it was once in a life time experience, the chanting and echo of the prayer was something I've never experienced. The blog will be incomplete without a mention about the food that Kolkata has to offer, a Rs.20 road side Mughlai Parantha, with chunks of chicken will put Karims to shame, and that too for such a price, this would've cost me 250 bucks in Delhi and that to for half the taste. The charm of paranthewali gali in old Delhi will look lame compared to this. You can have a huge fish cutlet for Rs.3, tea for Rs.2 after every hour, and I'am still talking about street food here. They equally have the finesse of fine dining, offering gourmet delights for the ever experimenting bengalis. Have a stroll around the Park Street, have breakfast at Flurys or Chelo Kebab at  Peter Cat, the food that Kolkata has to offer is vast, delectable and scrumptious. But the real prized-possession of that place are the priceless people.

Survival of the fittest as they say, but you will see the happiest bunch of smiling people, doing what makes life more richer i.e, eating the best, learning the best, living the best, instead of running after money in this so called busy but mundane life. The pride of the bhhodrolok is something to be proud of. I salute the spirit of the rickshawala who put his sleep first than a few bucks. As for me, I think I'll always remain a girl fascinated by a big city.

TAGS: Kolkata, Belur Math, Flurys, Peter Cat, Delhi, Karims, Ganges, Satyajit Ray, Rickshaw

Resolution 2011

I shamelessly didn't wished any one this year. The whole point of texting seems to taxing for my self acclaimed wastage of time. Half of the numbers in my phone list are of people whom I never wanna see in my waking hour. The so called long lost friends are too busy, neither I give a damn  about. And usually I have to select the so called unimportant people and remove them from my list, so that I can add a bunch of more such names. When I was in an "unemployed lost in translation phase" last year my phone bill use to be eye-popping (I rather not give the figures as I might sound tacky). Now look at me when my company is all raring to pay my bills. I can't even muster a grand. That is the irony of money. The story is more or less the same in Facebook. The friends list is just a number. I even shirk to see the few so called friends online when ever they are online. Let alone talking to some of the nauseating people I have added for the heck of it. But they are there cause FB calls them so. And even though I am the one voicing my opinion here, I follow the same Banana Republic I live in. Friends are important no second thought about it but not the ones who are not worth it. Hence I just want to know my friends & foes better than the ones who come in between the "Friend-Foe" category this year. And yes I just want to be a little tolerant towards criticism instead of letting it run on my head over & over again. I wish to God to give me loads of new experience this year. I am feeling so good today. Like any true red blooded women, the whole idea of novelty turns me on like anything. January will remain yellow for me. It's all Yellow today.

Masterpiece

I liked Sanjay Leela Bhansali's music in Guzaarish. The delicately inter woven ballads and the free flowing lyrics that he produced is magical. Though none of the song figures in my "Top Five Favorite Songs" but they have touched a cord somewhere in me. As far as Bhansali's movie is concerned I am not really a big fan of his theatrical movie display, extravagant sets and black and blue screenplays. But I do admire him for being an artist who is blessed with an innate sense of beauty. My personal favorite movie of his would be BLACK. I can see that movie nth times for it's dialogues (particularly  the scene where Rani is giving interview for college and also the last scene of the movie where she explains the meaning of Black). The intensities in his songs are so profound, maybe that's because of the sort of person he is. He is extremely gifted from direction, to music, to production, to lyrics, he has left his mark on every movie he made, one small example would be the lyrics of this song called Tera Zikr from the movie Guzaarish.
It goes like this.

"Ke tera zikr hai
 Ya itr hai
 Jab jab karta hoon
 Mehekta hoon, Behekta hoon, Chehekta hoon"

It's an old form of Hindi poetry writing, if you look at the lyrics the first line relates with the third line. And the second line relates with the fourth line. The song is a poetry in itself. God knows how many of the masses has taken a notice of this. I have been basking in this song since yesterday. Art at its best.

Jhumpa Lahiri

After badgering myself for past 12 hours about being a lazy-bone,  I am writing this blog. I didn't even peeped here for sometime, didn't even wanted to cause my reading habits have started over shadowing my writing ones. I've become obsessed with reading now a days. I am turning into this online reading junkie who cannot have enough of it. My eyes are straining  like hell and I am spending half of my salary either on books or eye drops. I am writing about this particular one because I've to get this book out of my system. I read Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth almost two months back and I am still stuck with it like a teenager's first love. I've read all her novels, needless to say how much I love her writing. I just cannot get her narration out of my head. It's addictive & simple & profounding, like watching porn as a kid and not been able to get it out of head. I went to Turtle Cafe, few months ago, bought this book and read the last story right away. I know Ms Lahiri's writing is evidently about Bengali Diaspora. The little nuances of her writing creates a kind of belonging one gets from being at peace with oneself. She paints such a beautiful pictures with her words that it stays with you for long, almost like it happened in your life. I felt this same ache when I read Interpreters of Maladies. She ignited the same emotion with The Namesake. She has done it all over again with this one. I started this book from the last story 'Hema And Kaushik'. I have not read it after that one time, I didn't dare to because it was too poignant. Such was her storytelling. It is a masterpiece. Other day I  watched 'The Namesake' again, I'd the most intense & profounding cinematic experience. If Jhumpa Lahiri is a genius, so is Mira Nair.

Excerpts from the book:

Unaccustomed Earth

"He owned an expensive camera that required thought before you pressed the shutter, and I quickly became his favorite subject, round-faced, missing teeth, my thick bangs in need of a trim. They are still the pictures of myself I like best, for they convey that confidence of youth I no longer possess, especially in front of a camera." 

The Third and Final Continent from Interpreters of Maladies.

I wanted somehow to explain this to Mrs. Croft, who was still scrutinizing Mala from top to toe with what seemed to be placid disdain. I wondered if Mrs. Croft had ever seen a woman in a sari, with a dot painted on her forehead and bracelets stacked on her wrists. I wondered what she would object to. I wondered if she could see the red dye still vivid on Mala's feet, all but obscured by the bottom edge of her sari. At last Mrs. Croft declared, with the equal measures of disbelief and delight I knew well:
"She is a perfect lady!"
Now it was I who laughed. I did so quietly, and Mrs. Croft did not hear me. But Mala had heard, and, for the first time, we looked at each other and smiled.

Nutcase!

Lately life has been crazy & I am pissed off doing the same crazy stuff that I've been doing all my life which is Cribbing, Getting Bored, Complaining & being Self critical. OK so I know my failings & I want to be the first person to recognize it but I can't seems to be able to control this so called drive to seek for some thing new every single day. I want something new to happen every day it might be an argument with someone random or it could be eating a new dish or it could be using a new word. But I crave for novelty, the idea of treading into unknown path gives me an adrenaline rush, it makes me feel out of depth, nervous, excited all at once. Now that I don't have anything better to do in office I better put down my doings of the past week.

1) Monday: Reached office at 11.30 am without feeling a tinge of guilt or fear.

2) Tuesday: Wore stilettos (6 inches) & I felt damn good about it even though it gave me few shoe bites.

3) Wednesday: Used a new word "Sacrilege" for the first time in a conversation.

4) Thursday: Corporate fight with no words. (" Welcome To Corporate Stress Moushmi" My Boss's Quote)

5) Friday: Had a damned interesting conversation on lift with this ex-journalist single women on a GM Diet. She incessantly shared her worldly knowledge about dieting with me. She weighs 88 Kg.

6) Saturday: Guzzled Kokum Sharbat & few unknown dishes which all turned out to be crap.

7) Sunday: Went to class after a really long time where everyone greeted me with a standing ovation. ( It was so embarrassing, I suddenly forgot to walk without being aware of every little part of my body)

Everybody had a great laugh on my behalf. But at least it was something new. I am in this moronic- life-is-yuck-phase so kindly excuse me.