I don't know what to call this!

Gosh...the day is once again round the corner. I know most of u will not agree with me here. Still, I must burst it out.

Valentine's Day is a thorough bore. Saying 'I love u' to your partner on this so-called special day almost means u are out of the passion for the rest of the twelvemonth. And well, what the hell is love? For me, it is unreal. Well, many of you may not agree. It is more of a feeling that u experience in any kind of event, person, action or sensation than just the love between man and woman.

For me love exists in the idea of the passion itself. I believe anything of the sort that is even once incarnated, loses its flame. Like when you put down your ideas of poetry on paper it is longer poetry...they are mere good sounding rhymes. Poetry remains poetry as long as it exclusively stays in the mind. It is the feeling of the emotion that matters, not the embodiment.

Well, we still write, we still love, we still fall.

Don't call me an escapist, pls.

Reminiscence of the Past

Traveling down the memory lane is one of my favorite pastimes, dwelt into in far intervals though. Looking back into my childhood (as far as my memory goes) helps me relive some of the most precious moments that I hold close to my heart. I have tried to assimilate some of the striking ones into this blog. Incidentally many of them might coincide with the past experiences of other people my age or round about.

First day In school: This is an experience probably no memory can miss. Getting into the gates of Carmel Convent High School, M.A.M.C, Durgapur, walking past the beautiful rows of eucalyptuses and a huge rotary opposite each other and most shockingly being led into the kindergarten room behind locked doors is still alive in my mind. Amidst a crowd of blue skirt-white shirt-red sweater dressed kids, a bunch of teachers, a huge blackboard and lots of wailing sounds, I too cried to my heart's content but then managed to make a few friends and was in splits by the end of the day.

Making way through adolescent reads: Having enjoyed my share of reading stuff with fairy tales Cinderellas and Snow Whites, I slipped into the dream world of Noddy and soon after took to the adolescent adventures of Famous Five, Secret Seven and Hardy Boys. Side by side I do not regret having fed with loads of Archie editions and the occasional intrusions by Tinkle, (mostly supplied by my bro). Later on books by Agatha Christie, Maugham, H.G Wells, Dickens, O'Henry took over...the list grew.

'I'm loving it' kinds: Some of the tasty tidbits that once invoked my senses, continue to be my favorites. Starting with hojmi guli (a digestive globule), GEMS, Peppermint, Pepsi Cola pipes, it covered the platter of luchi, begun bhaja, fulkopir chorchori, sujir payesh and gota on Saraswati Puja, korai er dal and posto the occasional phuchka sessions, daal kochuri, aamsotto...the list is endless. However, today there can be further additions made, like rolls, bhel puris, momos, etc.

Ramayan and Mahabharat: While in mid school these two epics aired on Doordarshan were a must see for us. Come every Sunday and all and sundry got glued to the television to read our epic sagas on T.V. I still remember people who did not have a T.V set hopped into our place to have a glimpse of the serials. But they couldn't be missed at any cost.

Other television serials: Agatha Christie and Sherlock Holmes episodes, Street Hawk, Danger Bay, Jungle Book animated series, Buniyaad, Hum Log, Karamchand, Khandaan, Quiz Time were some of my favorite T.V shows in my teens. A little later Fauji and Circus became the greatest rage of the time. Some of us even had the hero's name (Lt. Abhimanyu Roy, played by Shahrukh Khan) written on our palms. I still pull my little brother's leg by teasing him that I am a greater fan of SRK and for a longer span of time much before he got to know of him.

Poster collection: collecting posters of sports stars, singers, filmstars was a craze back then. We even exchanged our valuable possessions of the likes of Viv Richards or Imran Khan post cards with George Michael or Michael Jackson posters.

There are a whole lot of other associations that arouse nostalgia in me. But my blog is already a tad too long and you see what it takes to get into a reverie.

You can chip in with your memory slots here as you wish. You are most welcome!

Sachin's Omission

I thought of not even giving it an iota of space in my blog but then, keeping away from it also does not make me happy. Hello, I am talking about Sachin Tendulkar's omission from the 'all time great' top 20 in Tests and ODIs. Most rightly and sarcastically as Abhinav Bindra has put it, they (the ICC) must have mistyped or rather untyped mistakingly the maestro's name in the list.

The fact that the likes of Hayden, Sangakkara, Hussey, Mohammad Yousuf etc leading ahead of Tendulkar in itself raises serious doubts about the credibility of the rankings and rankers. A man of indomitable talent and exemplary dedication and consistency, the Little Master has been baffling the cricket world (lovers, critics and players included) with his cricketing acumen for 19 years now. With over 12,000 Test runs and 15,000 ODI run in his kitty, he still strives to deliver and deliver at its best, I must say! And still, he has been questioned of consistency. The ICC has gone nuts and needs rigorous counseling.

Slumdog Millionaire

First of all, kudos to the entire team of Slumdog Millionaire who bagged some of the most prestigious awards at the Golden Globe Awards last week. Although I am yet to watch the film, I can surmise an outline of what it is all about from the reviews and analyses that have been splashing the media for the past few days. However, what I fail to gather is why Mr Amitabh Bachchan is so vociferous about the portrayal of glorification of slum dwellers in Mumbai, India through a rags to riches story!

Apparently, Mr Bachchan has problems with the image of India being tarnished at the international level with the country's poverty being displayed in the film. He is also upset about the fact that Satyajit Ray's films got noticed in the global standards while Bollywood's blockbusters never got recognition at the film festivals which matter most.

May I point out that it was Big B who portrayed characters like Vijay in Deewar and a handful of other films as well which categorically harped on the oppression of the poor in the hands of the rich – wasn't India's image being played with, if his argument is to be considered at all! Moreover, the portrayals of the roles of anti-heroes were no less discouraging for the young generation of the 70's, proving him to be no less caring about the society and its people. However, I am not such dumb to not admit that I enjoyed every bit of the work you did all your life.

But I like Satyajit Ray's work more. Firstly, he worked on reality and never fled from accepting that he was a part of a poor country. Just a sparkling portrayal of the unreal with an 'all's bright and beautiful' tag dangling from all sides does not hide the reality. Poverty is still rampant here and Mumbai is home to one of the greatest slums. Entertainment and poetic justice are not the same. Had it been so, a Noddy or a Famous Five would have bagged a Booker instead of 'English Patient' or 'Midnight's Children' winning their dues.

Instead of talking big and shutting oneself to the pathetic financial plight of majority of your countrymen by basking in the glory of Bollywood fantasies, set your foot forward towards some positive moves that would compel global producers to portray India in a better light. Well done, Slumdog Millionaire!