"In the world ruled by pleasure, love is the ultimate seduction."

So says Rasa Devi in Kama Sutra. i vehemently disagree with this view of hers. As someone who has read the Kama Sutra i think love is transcendental, it is psychological whereas pleasure is something that is physical. Isn't that the first rule Vatsyana talks about when he says that the courtesan through pleasure must make her lover feel loved.

Love can be defined as attraction which is all about the physical body manifestation rather than the so called emotional bullshit.

Life necessitates three kinds of activity: to assure its survival, its means of existence, and its nourishment; to realise its reproduction according to forms of activity generally connected with sexuality; and, lastly, to establish rules of behaviour that allow different individuals to perform their roles within the framework of the species. In human society, this is represented as three necessities, three aims of life: material goods (artha) assure survival; erotic practice (kama) assures the transmission of life; and rules of behaviour, a moral nature (dharma), assure the cohesion and duration of the species. Whereas Artha and dharma are often thrust upon us or something which is more finite, it is Kama that is infinite, that is abstract, that is the most earthy of these.

Each of us look for straight lines in this world but one forgets there is nothing like a straight line. There has always been a rivalry between the chaste and the unchaste. Love is 'apparent' because we think it cannot easily be acquired. Once the wheel is set in motion there are no rules or order.

Vatsyana was a very interesting man, on one hand he claimed that the goddess of lust Rati herself came down to teach him the 64 arts of love (as opposed to what popular culture has now made the 64 positions) on the other hand history tells us his knowledge of human sexuality came from his mother and aunt - Malavika and Avantika, two very well knowns courtesans of India in the 4th Century AD. I would highly recommend reading Sudhir kakar's 'Ascetic of Desire' before you read the main text (which is quite dry and not as explicit as one might think it to be) Its interesting to see how time and victorian ideals has impinged our idea of open human sexuality which India boasted of at one time.

Any way not digressing further, I leave you with this small song clip from this film Agni Varsha. Its got nothing to do with Kama Sutra to be honest but it is based in India, 4th Century AD and i think its pretty nice. The dance moves and the ancient locales add a very Kamasutra-esque feel to it. So enjoy. Plus you have hot model Milind Soman with Sonali Kulkarni




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uS3NTe5z6Ls

of nothingness

'Death is my lover, and he wants to move in.'
-Sarah Kane-


There are these little glazed things that were sticking to the mirror when I woke up today. On close examination I found they were water droplets which had condensed on the mirror surface and produced a shiny film.

A tiny flicker disintegrated last week with news of absolution and redemption that it had finally achieved saved itself from the curse of Sodom. Good luck there! is all I could whisper before a strong blast of wind with dust particles obliterated the tangibility of this existence
Tonight he will hear 'liar liar liar' being shouted out but despite it all, he had done his best and there was nothing more he could do. Can truth be spoken in more ways than one? White truth, black truth, red and pink truth maybe? Why is it that the captive needs to be held back when the world had already made her a prisoner in its brutal, violent existence? Someday he would have to face the world alone. He would have to be square and break off his circular existence. I think grammar is failing me as I keep switching between him and her or is it really more complicated than what meets the naked eye.

Tired. Aloof. Happy. Surprised and sleepy. For now he will be Alice in his own wonderland (Did I unwittingly pick up that phrase from someone else, in which case the lack of acknowledgement is duly regretted) He will clothe himself in the garment of the sky and mix with it. How edgy can desperation make an individual?

Random sexual encounters which tip momentary pleasure for love. Who cares about that? Love is just a word which we use to comfort ourselves to be plural, to add our burden on to somebody else and take on someone else’s (seldom but at times) and when the burden becomes unbearable you are left back at the starting point contemplating whom to bestow your 'love' on next. Pessimism? No. Practical? Yes

He misses the overcrowded buses and tubes with the sleazy men brushing up their crotches on the unperturbed lady who has learnt to ignore it by now. Adaptation they call it. He has also learnt to toughen up. Today is World AIDS day and he will get tested next week, hopefully he will not become another statistic for a mistake where passion overtook his sensible judgement. Before you masturbate your voyeuristic fill on pegging this to me, remember it’s not always autobiographical (that’s like calling O Henry mad or Tagore effeminate) but for the unsuspecting reader may you be satiated till the next attack of words. For now he has to hide his nakedness from the rest of the world, scurrying away and tripping on blazing red and purple hues!

Train

He heard the gong of the station bell, as the station master walked feebly waving the last train away. He could see the train chugging along blowing smoke as it traipsed down the rural countryside. He knew he had missed the journey and there was nothing more that he could do.

The Masques would hold it no longer, the narrative had died its natural death. It was finally the end of the story. Finito.

Dynamics

There was nothing he could do but wait

Wait for an absolution that would never come. But he would wait all the same.
He tried to erase the story but it remains etched on a trojan jar

Active Defiance

If there is one thing this year has taught me- is that time runs very fast.

Reminders and memories

Life is filled with so many 'should haves' and 'could haves' but it all comes down to the same thing. The passing down of a few seconds. A void present leading to a future waltz. I do not wish to rebuild anything anymore. I have had my world torn down too many times already. I will not allow it anymore.


The vicious cycle of hiding and not speaking. Of white lines and red lines now merging with the skin lines. They alternate, they remain confined and caged trying to break free. This laughter is questionable. This breath is fucking monitored
 
*Winter chill and smog
of  the many tubes passing by
the fish eyed mirror staring down
as i photograph myself alone*
 
There are so many indirect consequences of meaningless changes. Tick Tock, Tick Tock: Time has slowed its pace just for me. Just for the insignificant human being trudging towards his self discovery. Of a thousand unfulfilled promises. Shadows move behind the thick curtains.
 
*Freedom is chained
Helpless thoughts
caught in a web*
 
Its not the end of life. Normalcy will prevail soon.
 
He was born to love

Fantasia

Here I am waiting
singing the tunes of subterranean galaxy
the bittersweet taste of your poison
a morbid curse i have chosen

Estranged, deranged- a tormented mind
glorifying the last gasping breath
The cruel gray sea pulls at the chest
like a thousand crammed sailors jostling for breath

Divert and crumble
You're an embracing moon
the one i can see by the windowsill
silently calling at the sun kissed beach

You left the desert, an angels curse
and drifted towards the sandy oasis
a land of strange ascend
you conquered but you let me down

The fleeting countryside gave me hope
wind in my hair and smell of hay
Worse than enduring has been this land
where fantasy was true and reality bare

The hurt never ceases to bleed
a different lifetime, a different world
Clarity of the soul which you seemed to have missed
Now stepping over the threshold you kissed

Unborn, a tattered page
an obscured name, you spoilt the dreams
blew it in smoke
letting it becomes debris-ember and coke

Just tonight under the foliage of the sky
look back and see, just where beauty lies
the game of charades and abandoned child
for once let the glitter fade away

Swirling realities of the psychedelic night
daylight is short but your memory is bright
For now i will move away and clean your recognition
that left me ceaseless- a poisoned potion

I bruise easily

..anyone who can touch you

can hurt you or heal you

anyone who can reach you 

can love you or leave you

I love Natasha Bedingfield. (Does it always have to be metaphorical?)

London Snapshot

The highlight of yesterday was Arjun and me sitting in a pub on Old Street and a random woman coming up to us and asking if we were gay and then wanting to set up Arjun with her friend (also saying he had a very beautiful face and hair). But the story does not end there, after Arjun's departure she and her BF bought me drinks,  taught me how to play pool and complemented me on my teeth alignment (Go ahead laugh) and then asking if she can set me up with one of her friends instead,(she actually dialled someone's number asking me to talk to him).

Left that pub sufficiently boosted n drunk (come on i was just complemented,about to be set up and bought drinks) and went to another one to meet Alo and her friends where one cider got me drunk over the limits and travelling back entailed a rather frisky me and an overcrowded tube! And that my friend is London!

You touched my heart you touched my soul.
You changed my life and all my goals.
And love is blind and that I knew when,
My heart was blinded by you.
I've kissed your lips and held your head.
Shared your dreams and shared your bed.
I know you well, I know your smell.
I've been addicted to you.

Suffice

Fuck it.

All i need right now is a  good hash joint 

I still think of CPH and wonder if you do as well

I think I like complications even when i know it freaks you out

I solemnly swear to read Henry V religiously

I want to OD on Irvine Welsh

At times i just want everything to go back to the very beginning and re start all over again and then i realise how futile my wishes are. The more i try to hold on the more i get pushed

My new room mate is nice, but he is going back to India for good in a week's time. He spoke little and hardly stayed in the house. (In fact he has left today to come back after two days so I have the entire room to myself. Yipee.)


I am meeting AM next week. This will be the first time i will be meeting him, and to think i know him for the last one year or so. It will be fun going around London and being all touristy. A three day date with a beautiful man! ( I know you will read this sometime hence the complement)

I really like Steve's classes. He is my favourite professor here. The way he teaches nationalism and colonialism just leaves you spellbound. I mean he can make something as drab as Foucault's essay on discourse theory sound interesting. I am really hoping he supervises my dissertation and if i plan to continue for my Phd here i would love to work under him. I am enjoying my classes here immensely.

A twist of fate makes life worthwhile

I said i wasnt gonna lose my head
but then pop goes my heart
and I just cant let you go..


No no I am not in love again. I have just been seeing sappy romantic comedies starting with Shakespeare in Love which i had to see for my course on contemporary culture 'studying the reception and questioning of shakespeare in contemporary time.' ( I cant believe i watched Gwyneth Paltrow for more than fifteen minutes, but the possibility of a sexy Shakespeare was definitely reason enough)
I have finally started to love the Tube network of London. Its kind of mazelike and complicated. A different underground city in it self but once you get the hang of it, it is the easiest mode of transportation (a bit expensive but still). I wonder why i was using buses so many days.
I am off to Texas in January to be a part of the Equality ride (Yay-ness) but before that i am planning to visit Oxford with a friend. That's a place i really really really (i cant stress this enough) want to visit and I really want the trip to work out.

Ok enough of this rant. I am off to write a paper on de constructing the text and the reader and i have to read Iser and Said and none of them make very interesting reads. See you guys later.

The moonlit night

घरको  में  निकला  , तनहा  अकेला
साथ  मेरे  कौन  है , यार  है  मेरा
जो  भी  करना  था , कर  आ  गया  मैं
प्यार  को  ही  मानते  चलते  जाना 
देखा  है  ऐसे  भी  किसी  को  ऐसे  ही
अपने  भी  दिल  में  बसाए  हुए  कुछ  इरादे  हैं


I left the house, empty and sad
Who is with me today, but my friend
Whatever had to be done has been... 


Life is so strange, it tears you when you least expect it and brings you joy when you would rather cry. I feel quite at peace having resolved my conflicts and am glad i now have the time to reflect back on the joys and tribulations of life.
Maybe this emptiness is a a beginning of all those joys that is being accumulated to fill this up, I am optimistic about that. 


I finally have a job at Pret-a-manger and feel extremely happy about it. Other than the decent pay packet i also get a complementary gold card membership which entitles me to 50% discount at Pret stores around the world and a monthly party with free drinks on the house. I had given up drinking, partying and smoking (which i still don't do) but i realise i was trying to mould myself to something i was not and forced myself to in order to tailor myself to what i thought was a more presentable me. I have henceforth decided not to change myself for any one else. 


और अहिस्ता कीजिये बातें 


I still love those grecian dreams but i am willing to leave it behind for sometime whilst I move on with life and as the saying goes if one's love is true it will come back and nothing in this universe can stop it.

Womanizer Womanizer

Just a week back I was hating London and feeling homesick, however I think the city despite its impersonal attitude grows on you. Like vintage wine, the older it gets the more connected an individual feels with it. I am loving London right now.

Yesterday i had an awesome time with B walking down Waterloo Bridge and gazing at the river beneath us, after which we caught up over drinks and dinner.

I came back home at 3am today after watching The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus (Heath Ledger was just awesome in the film) with T, M and P after which we went out clubbing (The club is called G-A-Y, lol) and danced the night away to 'Strong Enough' and 'Womanizer' amongst others. I think Soho and Piccadilly Circus are amongst my favourite places in London.

I feel extremely lucky to have these people as my friends in London. Its really surprising how, new support structures always spring up when others become defunct.

I am absolutely loving London at the moment. I am at what can be called 'The Honeymoon Period' J and Scott took me out for lunch at this place on Old Street today. After which we took a stroll down Bricklane which is like the Bengali ghetto of London (In a good way mind you). Almost all the streets have signs in Bengali script and you can hear Awara Bhanwre or baul songs in the background. The street reminded me of Sudder Street in Kolkata as I was telling J.

The BCF was a bit of a dampener though, it looked like they were out to convert me. LOL.

I am meeting T, tomorrow and B the day after. So more of London to explore :-)

I also have a meeting with my financial counselor tomorrow so prayers needed that way! I also need to make some amends in my personal life, which are under major restructuring :-P

There's no need for anger
There's no need for blame
There's nothing to prove
Ev'rything's still the same
Just a table standing empty
By the edge of the sea

x

path traversed

we all bear the scars
yeah, we all feign a laugh
we all cry in the dark
get cut off before we start

The winds of change keep blowing and strangely it has ceased to elicit any emotion in me. Like little paper stick em ups on the mirror, i feel this discordant happiness at seeing patchworks of art scattered over the canvas of life. The philosophy of life are those seeds of happiness which you did not plan, which do not go as planned as a friend puts it.

I am not overly disappointed with myself, quite the contrary actually. All this blabbering will ultimately lead to zilch. The added bonus of a cheery company in a madhouse situation. A grinning goof, an obsolete joker. Maybe the frivolity of this post will mean something to the blind eye but to the seeker it shall remain elusive. Cups of coffee, a few packet smokes, a little vodka and throw in the raspberry breezer and you have a whole room full of mismatched voices. Music to some and noise to others. Pretentious and emo but wait he has hazel eyes, I am sure we will get along.

Oh he taught me to love him and promised to love

and to cherish me over all others above

Woke up to a glorious morning, where the sun streamed down behind the cold misty clouds and received two surprise phone calls much to my happiness. Tomorrow seems good. I will be with the Bengali Christian fellowship and sing bengali hymns. I remember Christmas in India was always a huge affair for me, this year i dont even know with whom to celebrate it with. Its weird how comfort zones can change situations.

I have fallen victim to the inevitable: Self Destruction, but wait that's not my vice, Damn, do i really need to spell it out! Elementary realisation once you read deep in to it :-)

I had an awesome after birthday get together at Kamal's today. He really has been very very supportive and helpful towards me from the first day itself. In fact he was the first person i met in UK.

We cut two cakes (yup you heard it right) drank loadsa energy drink and then heard lotsa music. He has this adorable younger brother who you cant help but loving. At last i feel cheered up.

University is going great and i love my classes especially Leigh's classes on contemporary culture where i get to read cool stuff like Trainspotting and 69 things to do with a dead princess! and Steve's classes on nation, nationalism and colonialism which is also one of my research interests.

Still missing Kolkata like crazy but trying to work it out

More soon!

জন্মদিন

আজ সকালে কেমন যেনো সব কিছু লাগছে. শীতের কনকনে ঠান্ডা হাবা গায়ে একট কাপুনি দিয়ে উঠছে. দুরের আকাশের দিকে তাকিয়ে ভাবি, যে আকাশ আমি দেখতে পারছি সেই আকাশ তো কলকাতা কে ছুছে. এই কথা ভাবলেই মনে হয়ে, যে বাড়ি ছেরেছি সেটা কে যেনো আবার ফিরে পেলাম. আজ এই জন্মদিনে না আছে মা, না আছে বাবা, না আছে কোনো বন্ধু কিন্তু আছে কেবল আশা আর ইচ্ছা সে জন্ম স্থান কে খুঁজে পাওয়ার এই বিদেশে. ঘন্টা, দিন, মাস গুনছি কবে বাড়ি ফিরবো. আজকে কাদবো না, আজকে যে এক নতুন বছর শুরু এক নতুন জীবনের প্রতীক

majhi re o majhi re, dekhecho ki tumi taare

সেদিন দুজন দুলেছিনু বনে
ফুল ডোরে বাঁধা ঝুলো না
সে স্মৃতিটুকু খুব ক্ষণে ক্ষণে যেন জাগে মনে
ভুলোনা ভুলোনা ভুলোনা

I am listening to a lot of Rabindra sangeet these days. I think i have never heard so many bengali songs in my whole life as i have over the last few weeks. I am craving everything bengali right now. What is it about the sweetness of Bengal, that even after travelling thousands of miles i still look for the familiar lettering, try to eavesdrop any conversation which may sound slightly bengali or just youtube Utaam Kumar.

I remember some years ago in an interview Taslima Nasrin spoke of her own anguish at having had to leave bengal for the more unfamiliar terrain of Sweden and how the unfamiliar footfall outside to the fresh smell of boiled rice reminded her of bengal. At that time i felt it was nothing but useless romanticisation of a life she had left behind- at best a writer's creative rhetoric outburst. However now when I hear the unfamiliar sylheti accent i feel home isn't far away. In fact i am going to Aldgate this sunday to attend a church sermon where the choir sings in bengali. I am really looking forward to it. Right now i feel like the boatman of Kari, who belongs neither here nor there, just rowing down life's slope cleaning up the clogged sewers of life

I am finally 22, (atleast in India )

I leave you with one of my favourite songs by Manna dey and asha Bhosle

Bling

London has ways to make you feel at home and make you feel like a stranger. I seem to have seen both sides of it over the past few days.

So many strangers (I use stranger very loosely here since i had not met many of them in person before) have over the past couple of days made me feel at home here.J, S,T, the two K's People I don't even know, but am glad to call friends now

I am meeting B next week after he is back from Edinburgh and he has promised to show me around London.

Ironically my Grecian dream (One that carried me here) still remains illusory! Oh well, enough said.

I will be 22 in three days!

Soho

I am not sure whether to take it as a complement or not, but every single bar I visit in London insists on seeing my ID, J says its a good thing if you are ID'ed it means you look younger than 18. LOL. I am not sure if I want to look younger than 18.

J and Scott took me out to Soho tonight, we started off with some bar and then J took me to see the river and then finally it was the historic Village Bar on Soho followed by the Ku Bar. The crowd was mad. There seemed to be one of every type, from the leery old men brushing the young ones to sexy girls (read fag hags) accompanied by their fags (Gosh! I am so politically incorrect here) What however was a new experience was watching GoGo dancers, dancing away on the bar top!

To add cherry to the cake, I am meeting 'A' tomorrow. Yay!

Met the infamous T yesterday

This post has been long overdue so here it goes.

I am finally in London. Its a beautiful city but too cold for my liking. I am currently staying in harrow and boy some room mates i have here. They can at best be described 'just off the bandwagon frustrated looking for sex types' Most of them can't speak in proper english and it just gets on my nerves. One of them had the cheek to ask me 'Why are you so english' LOL I completely understand what Tru meant when he said they were chuffs (i guess that is the right word?!)

Uni hasn't started yet so i have been exploring bits of the city on my own which has been just fine. In fact i am pretty happy about the way it has gone. Travelling in London is quite easy (but hell expensive, god save you if you don't have an oyster card). Yesterday T showed me around Trafalgar square, Soho and Leicester square. Central London is breathtaking. Once i get a job i have told him i am moving there. On a passing reference i met J too :-P

A hasn't been keeping well but i am really looking forward to meeting him this weekend. My uni teachers are a blast especially my head of the department, she has been really sweet to me from the moment i met her. I have orientation today so i am really looking forward to knowing her better. Getting a job is pissing me off right now. There seems to be none, zilch, null, whadaa. Pray i get one in the next week or so!!

Love you all

I'll come back when you call me. No need to say goodbye

My romance with the city comes to a halt today. Kolkata has been my home- the punching bag i could beat when i was feeling low, embrace and feel every lung of the city when i was nostalgic and above all where life started for me.

The last few days as i walked through Park street, Gariahat, and Rashbehari, I realised how much i will miss each every aspect of this city. From the earthy smell of the nooks and crannies to the warmth of the people. This is where i learnt to walk, talk, make friends and discover life. This is where i became who I am.

I feel extremely nostalgic today, knowing I will be a stranger next year when i return. This city keeps evolving and i might not be able to recognise some of the changes it will go through. Maa, Baba, sister and friends, it is a little difficult to believe I will be leaving them all. When i needed to breath and felt suffocated the lungs of this city gave me a fresh breath of air and taught me to survive

I do not know what is in store for me as i cross this familiar terrain to a world of uncertainties. All i know is the familiarity of this place will keep poking and reminding me of the place and faces left behind as i begin the process of familiarization and taking in the new cultural ethos of London. Of course London has its own attraction for me- Education, being closer to 'A' and starting afresh. But for now its Kolkata's motherly touch and the love of all my friends and family that i will miss.

Adios my city. See you soon!

Because i dont drink coffee..

Oxford Cha bar

(P.S: Cha = Tea)

Come to my garden walk

Come to my garden walk, my love. Pass by the fervid flowers that
press themselves on your sight. Pass them by, stopping at some
chance joy, which like a sudden wonder of sunset illumines, yet
elude.

~Rabindranath Tagore~

Conducting gay or lesbian research is tantamount to coming out, whether one is actually lesbian or gay or not.. studying gay or lesbian topics is imagined as only possible for a 'native'

(Leap and Lewis, 2002)

*Sigh*

P.S: I watched 'I cant think straight' at Fame last week. Amongst other things i found Sheetal and Lisa make a hot couple. (For the uninitiated watch 'The World Unseen' before you watch them in this film, you will know what i mean)

Oh well!

Polyamory

I remember watching Rituparno's film Shubha Mahurat, where Nandita questions if it is not possible to love two people at the same time.

Polyamory ( coming from the greek word poly meaning multiple and latin amor meaning love) which means having more than one lover has been a documented fact since the classical hellenic times, its only now that we have woken up to the fact that loving two people at the same time is not done. Societal ideas have shaped this of course including the victorian ideals of our past law makers. Even our indian literary discourses have instances of men having more than one wife with equal affection for all of them (Being a patriarchal model it was only the men who were having more than one partner, i am sure if it was possible it could very well have been the other way round)

John cameron mitchell's cult film 'shortbus' seems to interrogate this very concept of sexuality as akin to polyamory. There are even polyamory societies which support this bohemian lifestyle. My take on this subject is slightly different if not problematic. I feel that whilst one should be committed in a single relationship that individual can have or experience intense feelings for another person which might be an emotional attraction ( I will not say physical otherwise the entire moral brigade including my lover will certainly crucify me!)But jokes apart is being emotionally attracted to someone else other than your own lover problematic, cheating or simply double timing? I have a friend who can best be described as polyamorous. This friend professes love to a certain individual but often has these intense bonding with other people which are both emotional and physical and i know how much these means to this individual.

Articles often like to give this relationship an aesthetic picture by calling it platonic but i differ. It definitely is something much more than simple platonic love. Often a person in quest for his or her ideal lover finds that the qualities are equally divided amongst two individuals, what does one do then. Be happy with the limited qualities of one lover or realise its full potential by having two lovers. Sociologist would call this a growing dissent in human bonding and emotional attachment and doing away with the societal conceived notions of commitment. I personally feel the same intensity can never be replicated for two individuals and at some point it will falter and thats when we will start questioning but for now love as i see has never been defined by names and this might just be yet another addition to the queer umbrella maybe? I leave the question open

Shob Choritro Kalponik

Shob choritro kalponik literally translated as 'All characters are imaginary' is Rituparno Ghose's latest film. I wonder what is up with rituparno these days. He seems to be making films for himself rather than his viewers, not that there is anything wrong in it (As an amateur film maker myself I make films for myself too and leave the reception and interpretation to the viewers) This film too is no different. Rituparno Ghose is definitely a film maker par excellence and each and every frame from the very beginning is a testimony of that fact. The film is set somewhere between illusion and reality and rituparno has used some very moving images and poetry to tell his story, Prasenjit as Indraneel does a very good job as the poet who lives in his own poetic world oblivious to the world outside it. He even forgets some of the basic necessities in life including the existence of his wife. However it is Bipasha Basu as Rai who steals the show. As the uncared wife of Indraneel, she does a good job balancing love and frustration. Her eyes seem to speak volumes of her daily frustration at being neglected and being the sole breadwinner of the family. Her reality in the poets life seems to give rise to the muse Keya who is somewhat of an illusion, though the director leaves us wondering how is it that the muse is given a body and shape by Rai rather than the poet himself making me wonder if she is a manifestation of the emptiness that the poet might have felt in his wife or the wife giving a solidity to her rival who had greater control over her husband.

The film's poetry is a highlight and Joy Goswami makes us wonder where the reality and aesthetic converge into creating this rich tapestry of thoughts and illusion. I find the surreality of the film very moving. At times I had to actually think very hard in trying to find a justification for the director's vision. Rai seems to be suffering from the guilt of an adulterous wife who seeks justification for her action. At one point she questions Shekhar (played by Jishu Sengupta) if his love for her exceeded his devotion to her husband's poetry. But I think what the director really wanted us to possibly reflect on was the afterlife of the poet. It was only after his death that we see his wife's love for him increasing manifold. It seems to question the complexities of existence in a space of mundane reality intermingling with the soul searching for the magical. The film reminded me a lot of Garcia Marquez's treatment of magic realism in a Latin American setting. It is interesting to see how Ghosh has created this larger than life illusion within this mundane. The metaphysical aspect of the film was defining its rhythm which slipped into these sudden bouts of blackness and white light. Keya and Rai seem to be mirror images of each other, a manifestation of her soul. In the scene where they are both looking at each other and exploring this the director uses a very strong homoerotic consciousness to create this bonding.

The film lives up to its name as the fiction and the non fiction seem to intermingle into each other in this fairytale idyll. Rai's journey towards discovering her dead husband is a major theme of the second half of the movie. In her rock like stature to pull up her personal and conjugal life from the idiosyncratic actions of her husband which often left them without money she had lost that respect and love for her husband, but death seemed to have brought her closer to him in this journey of rediscovery. The mysticism of the film continues much after its narrative ends. Rai's journey seems to have just begun. The only jarring factor of the film was Bipasha Basu's dubbed voice which completely ruined the film's melody and rhythm. I wish Ghose had made a better choice there.

Like his previous films, Ghose has created a beautiful canvas of the surreal and the real and watching it has been a visual treat.

Sand castles

For all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been"
~John Greenleaf Whittier~

I have a test on Kari (actually graphic novels which also include Sandman and The Killing Joke, but i am only reading Kari) tomorrow. I heard about it sometime last year read it quite recently as a part of my course. I am struck by the simplicity of the novel. The pencil sketches and the poetic language adds an ethereality to the narrative which posits the novel somewhere in Panthestic solipsis between the mundane reality and the world of myth as Robert Heinlein called it. The protagonist, Kari breaks the stereotypical depiction of a lesbian so much so that she rejects the very term rolling it through her lips like a stranger. Her ambiguous sexuality is not the central theme of the novel though Amruta Patil uses it to make some thought provoking comments (albeit a bit politically incorrect ones) like 'There is no such thing as a straight woman.' I laughed when i read that comment but i felt it so true. After all sexual identities are pre conceived socially binding terms that have been created to put us into boxes. Queer contends that "gay," and the concepts of "homosexuality" and "heterosexuality," are pre-constructed identities. Queer theory asserts that as these are the products of a specific era of social history, they are arbitrary and that there will come a time when they are no longer relevant categorizations. Kari seems to flow in the same wave.

The opening frame of Kari which is a sort of homage to Los dos fridas speaks aeons about what is in store for the reader. I especially thought Ruth (who seems to be more surreal than real) was actually a manifestation of Kari's own quest for the ideal lover. Despite all her faults she is the one Kari desires even in the end of the novel. Ruth's action seems to be a mirror antithesis of Kari's. The novel reminded me somewhat of Ruby Rich's essay on the New Queer Cinema where she speaks about this new crop of films which depicted sexualities which were neither unashamedly fixed nor conventional. I could say Kari brings in the new wave queer identity (Gosh i should take copyright over this right away) But all in all Kari is definitely a major milestone in Queer expression in a completely new age format. The only other Queer graphic novel i read was Cavalcade of Boys which i bought at a gay bookstore in Amsterdam and i was suitably disappointed.

Coming back to what i started this post about. I often think what if this had happened like this or how something might have been if i had done something differently and then i question my own actions, however of late i have decided to never question my past actions. If at the moment i took that action it seemed the best alternative then it remains, i don't want to re-question a past action. One such past action culminated into a very unlikely acquaintance-friend (somewhere in between or maybe both).

I think 'T' is a pretty interesting character. I started off being extremely jealous of him, ( don't ask me for details) never to the point of disliking him though but later on when I spoke to him I realized I was quite mistaken about him. (Third person accounts are always fraught with error, trust me) though he does keep pulling my leg and teasing me, which irritates me like hell but over time I have just grown to realize he is like that. But seriously speaking he is a nice guy. I spoke to him over the phone today for the first time. He was nice and courteous (Fuck I still have the Faerie Queene hangover, I cant believe I just said courteous, how Elizabethan of me) I do plan to meet 'T' when I go to London sometime. I wonder why I have this penchant for finding interesting people seven seas away. (Wasn't having a lover there enough, apparently not. Ha Ha) It is interesting that the person we fought over was catalytic in bringing us close. Oh well that's life.

On a last note, I was thinking, what is it that I can do today to make the other bloggers jealous of me and so I thought I would make a list of some of the media reports that have been published about me over time (This is not exhaustive of course but just a glimpse. Lol) Get jealous!!

The Independence Day interview (Times of India)


The Kinaara Article (Indian Express)

The Kinaara Article(tehelka)

On Crimson (Indian Express)

The Republic Day article (The telegraph)

On friends (I love Kolkata)

On Crimson (BollyQueer, Univefrsity of Western Ontario archives)

On part time jobs (The Telegraph)

On politics (NDTV, News interview)

On partying (now this is an old one from Kolkata Mirror)

P.S: The actual reason for linking them here is to keep a track of them and not to make anyone jealous

American Pie fast forward

Life is increasingly becoming like American Pie minus the sex. Dont ask me why. It just is.
Today i had a pretty brilliant weekend. I met M in the morning today. He was very courteous and a thorough gentleman (Which isnt something you see in a french man mind you. Most of them i have been around are flirts who always have 'when can i take him/her to bed' in mind, of course i am generalising here) We spoke work as we sat in City Centre with the rain pouring outside. He wants to take my films to Paris this year for a festival in November. Whee!

I also met P right after. As we gorged on mutton roast and chocolate milk shake (more me than her) we spoke of the days gone by and the people we have come across. It sure has been a long way. We have fought, argued and made up and i guess thats what has made 'us' survive. The fact that we dont need to meet everyday or talk evryday but knowing we are there just a text away. The long drive was really good. The higway makes me feel free and happy about myself and i like the feeling of being unfettered zooming past the hundred city lights and empty road.

Lastly I had a nice conversation with A and completed my day with a happy smile. Love you.


Oh i also found this video after much searching. Its called 'You are' by Mehnaz and Air Supply from the film Split Wide Open. I had heard it ages ago and recently rediscovered it

I have always wanted to see the Queen. The Queen has enticed me with her splendid show of glamour. However when i did meet her, i was disappointed. Now i want to go back to my indigenous roots. But i see no way of doing that. The Queen has trapped me and i see no way of escape.
It has been one mistake i shall not be able to salvage.

Can you feel the love tonight

I grew up at a time when cable television was unheard of and entertainment meant Swabhimaan (which we did not understand) and Chandrakanta (flashy, fantasy show on doordarshan)

I remember going for Jurassic Park with dad which was my first foray in to the world of English Cinema. 'Movie days' in school were rarity when we used to be taken to the library and shown some crappy animation film. I remember watching Mary Poppins and Lion King though. Lion King has always been one of those films that i can see over and over again (Along with Titanic, but that will be later)
I must have been six when i saw it and even now when i hear elton john singing 'Can you..' it transports me back to my childhood. I wonder whats up with animation films these days, where is the soul? The last animation film which really touched me was Rugrats (remember Cyndi Lauper singing 'I want a mom that will last forever..' I could not stop crying) I still wish the Faraway Series by Blyton is made in to a film someday. As a child i used vision myself living with Moon-Face and Silky on the tree.

when i was ten i think Titanic was released. Of course at that time i did not understand the film. What really attracted me was the the grand sets and the fantastic visualisation. In case you are wondering what i must have felt about watching Jack sketching Rose in the nude, let me clarify, the Indian version of the film had completely censored that scene and so my parents really had no problem in letting their ten year old watch it. I had two pet squirrels at that time who were quite unsurprisingly named Jack and Rose. I watched the film again, a few years later and more recently yesterday night after almost six years and my love affair with it still remains as strong as ever.

Music Videos, what would we have done without them. Indi pop was quite a rage. Anaida, Mehnaz, Alisha Chinoy and Shweta Shetty (wonder where she is) ruled the roost. The songs were coarse and often quite raw (remember Shweta shetty's Deewane toh Deewane or Anaida's version of Hakuna Matata with Baba Sehgal) but that was an era i grew up in and in a way i kind of miss it. The other day while flipping channels i came across Anamika's 'Kahin Karta Hoga' video. I cringed when i saw it and laughed at how much i loved it back then.

Life's been all about change, and as the torrent continues i wish i could dip back in the childhood i will never experience again.

Grey

A grey, sad rain is falling,
And i sit on a chimney alone.
In the porch someone's waiting for someone
But I am all on my own.

~Irina Ratushinskaya~

Maybe its alright, maybe its not but the heart is uneasy. Something feels amiss

For every woman that steps toward her freedom,

there is a man who rediscovers the road to liberty.

Lets talk sex

Shortbus is one of those films that left me in awe much after the credits had rolled. I had to actually see it thrice till i finally got the essence of the film. John Cameron Mitchell is definitely talented and has collaborated his intellctual bend of mind with superb cinematic qualities. Hedwig was definitely good but after seeing Shortbus and finally deconstructing the layers within it i am just speechless. its a pure work of art.

I liked the way in which he has used sex as a metaphor rather than using metaphors to signify sex. This inhibitionless expression of oneself and the complexities of one's body and gender politics ties up nicely with the innate human reservations we have over our sexuality. The area is gray and i am glad JCM has acknowledged it and without taking a moral stance just told a story. In a repressed nation, such a notion of sexual freedom is definitely welcomed. I think the nudity has been used very artistically and even some of the coarse graphic scenes had so many hidden layers which the viewer had to unravel to arrive at the truth.

The film uses brilliant techniques of light, where light and darkness juxtapose with the tenor and crescendo of the music in amplifying the images. It definitely did deserve the long list of awards it has got over time. I am especially spell bound by the song 'In the end' It seems to downplay our obsession with sex and tests physical intimacy in a metaphysical construct, where the sacrosanct claims of physical intimacy is broken down and idnetities dashed against a growing voice of dissent which finally breaks into a celebratory note of freedom.


we all bear the scars
yeah, we all feign a laugh
we all cry in the dark
get cut off before we start

and as your first act begins
you realise they're all waiting
for a fall, for a flaw, for the end

and there's a past stained with tears
could you talk to quiet my fears
could you pull me aside
just to acknowledge that i've tried

as your last breath begins
contently take it in
cause we all get it in
the end

and as your last breath begins
you find your demon's your best friend
and we all get it in
the end

I cant sleep these days. Sleep seems like the monster in disguise who spirits me away to a land that is dark, bereft of emotions and gives me nightmares.

The inaguration of Bal Chitrapath at Nandan went off quite well i think other than the occasional stupid question or comment from the viewers. Met Anindya too which was really nice. I like him, he is one of the few genuine people around me i am distinctly fond of and i have no problem in acknowledging that.He is so talented. Spoke to him about my new project and he seemed to like it too.

I miss 'A'. This month is going to be tough, definitely for me but so much more for him. *Hug*

Its been almost 4 months since i smoked and i am glad i quit.
Oh and suddenly i feel so much free blogging these days possibly because no one can comment back.

A wind came up out of the sea,
And said: "O mists, make room for
me"

-H.W. Longfellow-

Random Shuffle

Listening to Jordin Sparks' No Air. Can relate to it a lot these days. Chris Brown sounds faintly like MJ in this song. Screening went off really well, I was really surprised at the intensity of the discussion that followed.

Last night on my way back home i saw this old man on the metro standing near the seats reserved for the handicapped people. No one paid any attention to him and the poor man stood all the way to his destination. Old age doesn't attract me and if i am to confess it repulses and scares me, but this has more to do with the thought of th inevitability of that experience that awaits. When it comes to random strangers i can easily befriend,it has always been the older generation. I feel a certain amount of affection for them,not bordering on to pity, mind you.

Dooba Dooba is playing now. It reminds me of school fests. Almost 6 years back when school fests were the biggest event all of us looked forward to. The St James School fest was the biggest and most awaited in my city. I remember taking a very active part in it, joining the sub commitees and taking part in the events. I remember the last school fest before i graduated, Ryan was there. Shit its almost 6 months since he passed away. He is one person who deserved so much more.

Nigah Queerfest happens in another two months. Will definitely be sending my film but not sure if i will go this time. Last year was such an awesome experience that i fear i might be dissapointed this year and i really want to cherish last year. It was the first time i visited Delhi, stayed at an unknown man's house who turned out to be such an awesome sweetheart. Shared rooms with someone who i consider a very close friend and also forged connections with a city which i consider second only to my home.

Whats going on by Four non Blondes is playing now. I really wish i knew the answer to that. It seems to be the piercing question of the moment which has no answer. Well i do know some of the things that are happening. I am in love with a terrific person. Minerrvaa is possibly pregnant and looks cute and chubby. I am enjoying life

Translating myself

Certain faces seem to have a habit of recurring over time and then forcing you to take notice. How much one might want to shake it off the construct governing the same seems to have a mind and force of its own which will make you take notice.
Reclaiming this space of rupture, of that solitary moment of recognition and hope seems to be arbitrary and impractical yet the zen mind wants to believe this untruth.

What remains to be seen is how the mutual co existence of the force that is practical meets the ideal and how on this path to self pity and near destruction, the individual swerves in to those untractable trenches of human fatality.

Kundera talks of the thin veneer of the said over the immensity of the unsaid but the melodic originality of testaments of life and death seem to filter in breaking the brusqueness of silence. The breadth of vocubalary depends on aesthetic intention governing the work. Its immeasurable potency seems to engulf the richness of the sparse tranche speeches of the oceans, seas and natural wonders.

How do motifs work? We humans seem to love the symbolic, the discovery that might seem ontological and such like. I love the richness of emotions and physical intimacy bereft of appendages attached to the past. It should be one that lives for the future and thinks of the present, yeah i subverted the general notion here, but who said i wasnt allowed to. The gauntlet of culture and identity lies broken on the tuft of grass outside the old temple of culture. We all seem to be flowing reclaiming new identities forging fake ones and creating even more spaces juggling away at an obsolete microcosm that is life.

Recurring theme of life

There's so much undocumented in my life. Someday i will write them all down and force it down the unsuspecting vouyeristic reader. I am quite dissapointed at my tendency to shift away from people i become uncomfortable with, but thats life.

As of now i am happy being away from most people. Home on weekends is so welcoming. The recurring theme of life: Move on!

Jaana Gaana Mana

Happy Independence Day. Welcome to self-governing India protected and liberated from all foreign invasions. How our Pakistan and China borders are infiltrated is of course something that we have to overlook today. Incidents such as the 26/11 attack also need to be forgotten as a freak accident of nature. Welcome to the socialist, non racially prejudiced India where children run away from schools where they are taunted for coming from a low caste, where matrimonial alliances are still decided on one’s ‘dharma’ (religion) and ‘jati’ (caste). Welcome to the progressive India where corporate industries are sent back before they can begin, where political insurgency forces industries to shut down. Welcome to the safe India where students commit suicide every other day thanks to ragging, where a Hetal Parekh’s rapist takes almost a decade before he is punished.
Welcome to the open minded India where sexual minority people are repeatedly taunted and discriminated at their homes and workplace.

Today on Independence Day as we step out of our homes to watch the tri-colour unfolding and we sing the national anthem let us not forget that the only way we can actually associate the adjectives safe, non prejudiced, open minded to India is when we are self aware, fight corruption and make our voices heard. Only then can we truly say, Yes! We are Independent. Let our feelings of nationalism not just drown itself in patriotic songs and movies today but help us introspect and move towards making India the world power it really is.

Of late

I had south indian food with my dad yesterdayand that too from a roadside shop in his office para. It has been a long time since we did this. The last time i remember eating out with him was last year during pujas at some fancy restaurant with mom and sister. Over the last few years there has been a growing distance between me and the rest of my family. I just dont think they understand me or even try to. Yesterday's unexpected show of affection had me thinking about how life has been such a twisted progression for me. At times when i felt i would fall down i had someone to help me. At times when i thought things were going good, i fell in the dark chasms of depression. Maybe god does want me to have a not so normal life pattern (queer maybe?!)

The other day while watching Habib Tanvir's Charandas Chor i was surprised how much i enjoyed the rustic folk music and language of the play. Simple things always move me and make me happy. I am ambitious but for me ambition is more on the professional front, personally i am satisfied with the simple things in life: walking down the JU lanes, having a cup of tea at Oxford's cha bar, roaming in park street, reading Adrienne Rich in the confines of my room and having late night chats with 'A'.

I got a surprising message today, from someone who had moved way beyond my periphery. I am not the kind of person who discards faces and bodies, in this case it was me who was unceremoniously left behind. I am not sure how to to react or answer back. Maybe if you are reading this you will be aware of all the hurt you have caused me and why i find this sudden 'getting in touch' so surprising

And now that the dust has settled

Europe achieved all that i had hoped for and more
Am super happy
Dont really feel like writing much about it. Its best when its unwritten
:-)

Chill

Well you done done me
and you bet I felt it
I tried to be chill but
you're so hot that I melted..

I Love Jason Mraz. His voice just melts me. Its been a long time since i have been so crazy about a singer (The last being Rufus Wainwright). I have been listening to him a lot this week. Speaking about this week, it can at best be described as tiring. Classes have been tough and for the first time in years i am diligently attending my classes. I need a break

Next week should be good. It will be fantastic, actually!

The longest road

This song will always remind me of Shaapla and Devika, actually i see it as 'our' song. The other day while reading Shaapla's blog i found out she is going to be moving to Delhi. I don't know how i should be feeling. Happy/Sad/ Disappointed. Its actually a myriad of all that.

I can still remember Zaranj and the Diwali Dinner with 'Let it be' playing in the background. The crazy night outs and car rides we have had more than once. Number 5 Hungerford Street and Vivekananda Park and the Slushes. Its just a strange feeling that all these places will remain like before but it just won't be the same now!

This one is for Devika and Shaapla!

I wish he was here today!

377! The draconian 148 year old law of Lord Macaulay (Otherwise famous for his equally infamous Minute of Education) has finally been read down (not repealed yet) by the Delhi High Court. After eight years of struggle which resulted in persecution of several activists and individuals, justice has finally come through.

This is the moment of India's own Stonewall in its struggle for Queer justice. I can still feel the warmth and tears that came down my eyes when Bedatri told me about the verdict. It was one of my proudest moments. I remember calling up my queer friends and relaying the news, most of whom knew about it already. I can still feel the happiness in the air when i walked in to the Academy of Fine arts, there was hugging, kissing and crying. It is one of the proudest moments of Justice being administered- late but finally coming through. The Verdict is a beautiful read. For those of you who want to read it check out the Naz Foundation or BBC site they have the full 105 pages verdict up(or subsequently i can mail you the pdf copy too). The court invoked the words of Jawaharlal Nehru and read down the basic constitutional rights that have been denied to the Queer populace reducing them to mere criminals.

India is the 127 th Country to legalise homosexuality or atleast decriminalise it. Thanks Riddhi for that interview which allowed me to address a whole range of listeners. 2nd July 2009 will always remain a beacon of light for the struggles and the struggles still to follow, a shining glory of equality and justice in India's Queer history. Today i really wish Ryan was with us to share this good news, you left us this year but i know wherever you are, you too must be happy. For me this day is also a tribute to your life.

Hold me like the river Jordan...

The dust has finally settled down. The elegies for MJ are finally drying up. MJ- Every time i say that to myself, i am reminded of school, Children's Day in particular when our teachers used to sing The Earth Song and Heal the World. I can still remember watching MJ for the first time on MTV when cable television first infiltrated our lives and being amazed at how he looked and danced. Years later when Black or White came out I was already familiar with the king of pop and had learnt his songs by heart.

He has been a part of the 90's childhood (and i am sure most of you will agree with me here) when Western music, and films was a craving and Michael Jackson was a staple diet. For me he was all that the West stood for (remember this was years ago and i was ten or twelve maybe) - Dancing, Pretty white skinned people, bikes, long hair ( oh god I was so envious of his hair) and good living. Everytime MJ was on the satellite i would run in front of the television dancing to his tunes (albeit a bit sadly). I think for me Michael Jackson was more like the initiation to pop music and western music in general. Beatles, Dylan and Elvis came much later.

I can still remember the Free Willy theme song. I think MJ was more versatile than we give him credit for. I will not talk about the scandals that came his way, they are best left unsaid and for me MJ remains a childhood memory which remains untainted. I have lost all his posters and memorabilia i had during my childhood. However his memory still remains. For me his death was the closure of a chapter that was childhood and growing up

Beauty: Joie de Vivre

La Sacre du Printemps is a ballet which ends with the sacrifice of a young virgin for springtime to return. I was very surprised when i first read this. The position of beauty being that of violation, reducible to a barbaric rite.
Within beauty i find an ecstatic celebration of love. Love that is flighty, potent, soaring above the clouds like a bright golden kite flying across the horizon. The fascination for beauty is one that goes beyond the pursuit of material objects. It is also about the beauty of people that cannot be seen, that is hidden within the portals of the heart. I like collecting people, who are beautiful. Within their beauty i like to lose myself and breathe in the potency of this primeval beauty that no kohl or synthetic cosmetics can achieve.

The same applies for writing. Its not just about the flow of words and the beauty of its sound that moves me. Its about the visual setting. Kafka once asked that his books be made large with large fonts, and this little wish of his is to be justified if not for anything else but for the sheer aesthetic that combined his writing with a visual treat that was both mental and physical. Recently while watching a play by a, well quite famous playgroup of the city i was struck by the sheer richness of its visual presentation which kind of completely obliterated the audiences desire for a stronger theme.

Afreen. I am in love with this word. I first heard this word almost a decade back in Nusrat fateh Ali's song which presented one of the most beautiful women i have come across in a dry, rustic bare desert. This contrast of beauty that is earthy, bare and natural was a high point of my teenage years. I was in love with this female, who became my muse for a long time and I remember dedicating more than half a dozen poems to her. Even in death, bloodshed, war i look for these small signs of beauty. Afreen is a sufi term which means heavenly and pure. I also see it as a passage towards the 'Al noor' and reaching the final light of realisation.

Beauty is surreal. Ofcourse Mr Breton would highly disregard my rather ambitious claim. For those who have read his manifesto will know that for him surreal was about being simple. Beauty is anything but simple. Its simplicity lies in the fact that understanding beauty is one of the complexities our human senses is unaccustomed too. Beauty translates into a menagerie of identities and words that is far from ideal. The laxities of postmodern relativism and its confrontation with the blithe wealth of urban contemporary culture is a defenceless pursuit. Hallucinatory, we move on through the muck and grime of everyday pain waiting for redemption. Stumbling and falling we still reach out for the rugged road: broken and cobbled.

Acoustic Voices

I can feel the electricity charged air around me dampening up like the clammy winds of winter blowing across a fertile countryside. There have been people coming and going, each with a different story to tell: of love, of sacrifice or amorous encounters. They interest me no longer. Human emotions are infertile stories needing nurturance, reassurance to grow. I cannot give either. I like hearing the voice that is uncoated with the made up sounds of trying hard to be 'different' maybe.

A trip down the undocumented and neglected alleyway brings us back to the nonrecurring theme of life- Happiness. How strange! Minutes, hours, days, weeks and even a lifetime later we are back sitting on the sooty pavement looking at the floating dreams above but realizing that you can never reach up for it. You can do nothing, nothing at all. You can get me gold, diamonds after marauding a hundred civilians but the valkyries will still pronounce 'our' doom. The mythicisation of the Prospero-Caliban affair is a failure. But you would rather close your eyes than look that direction. Hypocrisy stares at me when i look at myself in the mirror. This is too complicated. Are you sure you want to singe your fingers, i cant promise to be the balm or even provide soothing words of comfort.

I cant really take so many voices right now. I can see everything changing around me and i feel lost in that crowd. I cant find myself either. The singular known face makes his way across the crowd offering a helping hand but as the boy reaches out for it, it slips into the oblivious sea of people. The boy goes back crying and still searching. The electric guitar fades out in the background in a last desperate attempt to try and reach out, while the street singer plays his flute and dances about in the rain. I want to document our story in those lost dried leaves on his gravestone and then flow them down the river.

The wandering souls speak out, that only a child can answer. I remain silent.

यह जहन्नुम और यह जन्नत
है दोनों तेरे ही रहमत
मेरे मौला सब तेरे जलवे

Bow Wow

Minnerrva: Woof Woof

Nyasa: oh you stupid bitch, you dont have to speak in dog tongue here. I do understand english you know. I am bilingual

Minnerrva: I dont understand what's up with Rohit these days. He behaves all dreamy. Doesnt Hug me much anymore. The other day i saw him practicing how to lick in front of the mirror. Seesh!

Nyasa: yeah something's definitely wrong with the dude. He picked me up the other day and made me stare into the computer screen for no rhyme or reason at some random guy with a beard and all

Minnerrva: Gosh! Do you think he is turning mad. The other day i even heard him say woof woof on the phone. I got a complex hearing him speak our language

Nyasa: You know what i heard that evolution might just turn backwards. Do you think he has evolved from us?

Minnerrva: What! are you serious. Aren't all human's supposed to have evolved from Monkeys?

Nyasa: Not necessarily. If you ask me some humans might just have evolved from us. I think Rohit might be one of our descendants and now he is showing all these traits. That computer boy the other day looked like my long lost cousin, the english sheepdog.

Minnerrva: Oooh now i know what they were barking at each other on the phone. But if he larns our language how do we bitch about him without him coming to know.

Nyasa: Your right. I must bring this issue up in the Ninth Bow Wow Convention. Our rights are being threatened after all... Excuse me M, will you please stop licking your private parts in front of me and in front of that labrador. Look how he is staring at you.

Minnerrva: Your just a jealous bitch!

Nyasa: Grufff gruffff

Minnerrva: Wooff. Grr. bite

Nyasa: *&%^$#

Minnerrva: @!^^*)


and that my dear reader is one the few conversations which i have managed to translate using my limited understanding of barks. Any one who thinks he/she has been wrongly chracterised should not approach me for claims. The Ninth Bow Wow Convention shall hear any grievances and complaints

:-)

Of sham Scholarship foundations and suchlike

I am back in the city after spending a week in Delhi. 'I'-Scholarships was a bad experience and it has left a sour taste in my mouth. It was politics at its best form. The interview which went well (in fact close to 45 minutes) with me and my interviewers laughing by the end of it and talking about my work and research and how interesting it sounded to them cut to a bad dissappointment. The administration which is made up of (quoting someone) a bunch of pompous farts decided i did not fit the bill despite my interviewers recommending me highly (JNU professors, no less). What i find strange about this whole episode is that, if the 'winner' (I choose winner here since the scholarships were not based on merit or talent which i had plenty but rather on school affiliation and contacts) was pre-decided why make us go through this whole rigamarole of going to Delhi, spending money and appearing before a panel whose recommendations the administartion so clearly ignores.

The above is not a case of sour grapes but rather an exercise of venting my accumulated anger, disgust at rejection which was unmerited. In fact someone suggested that i should file a petition under RTI and find out what exactly happened. However i am not going into any of that. I just hope the Foundation made their choices more transparent and kept their biastness aside. As 'A' said that the shame is not mine but theirs and that i dont need some *****'s money.

On a completely different note i am representing india at the IGLYO conference in Amsterdam from the 18th July to 23rd and then flying off to Copenhagen to take part in another conference at the World Outgames Human rights conference. Well something to look forward to :-P