tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74509900937417065032023-11-15T22:32:42.412-08:00GlimpsesDatta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.comBlogger26125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-75091634829615952392014-09-04T23:57:00.000-07:002014-09-05T06:47:05.326-07:00The Book List<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Books are my first love. Books are my first friends, my best friends for life. My only hope in distress. My anti depressant. People often joked that I could even find a telephone directory interesting. Recently Shruthi Raghunandan nominated for a similar challenge in FB and one of the friends whom I nominated obliged by saying if you have the list of only ten books read more books :P.<br />
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So, going forward I am a person with a big heart. I fall in love very easily. I fall for people fast and I fall for a book real fast. So, all the books I have read are my favourite. But here I manage to have those books where I felt I am just into the story. I spent days and nights with them, seeing them. Living with them in their home. Advicing them, being real worried for them. The books which became me and the I became the books. Books which were there while I was growing up. Books which were there to show a newly wed bride how to deal with this new role. Books that I have laughed with cried with, fell in love with, went on a date with, and slept with. Starting from The <span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><b>Chacha Chowdhury</b></span> to <b><span style="background-color: #fce5cd;">The Mahabharata</span></b> to<b><span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"> Lajja </span></b>to <span style="background-color: #fce5cd;"><b>The Illiad</b></span> to <b>The Paradise lost</b> to <b>The Mayor of Casterbridge</b> to <b>The Da Vinci Code</b> to<b> The Immortals of Meluha</b>, I have books all the way. My dream in life amongst many is to own a library of my own.<br />
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So without much ado about the rest here is my list.<br />
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1. <span style="background-color: #ffd966;"><u><i><b>The Ruskin Bond Children Omnibus: </b></i></u></span>This book is my Holiday read. I
first laid my hands on it when I was <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-rTWhGJbL62kYBLYa_bXwJhRmBygXAyW1SP6p_9oAg3TRJ39FAXIrpKyhemUba_bcqdBWY3o8S8WWi8aARIXuaVC7PSTStMzG2Iw0oO0CngjH6AFyezd5CeRhTnguc2f49I_jToNowjF/s1600/Ruskinbond_children.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-rTWhGJbL62kYBLYa_bXwJhRmBygXAyW1SP6p_9oAg3TRJ39FAXIrpKyhemUba_bcqdBWY3o8S8WWi8aARIXuaVC7PSTStMzG2Iw0oO0CngjH6AFyezd5CeRhTnguc2f49I_jToNowjF/s1600/Ruskinbond_children.png" /></a>ten and I began reading it after
C.R, Rajagopalachari's Mahabharata. In a lazy summer afternoon I fell in
love with Rusty and swung around with The Blue Umbrella all the while
motivating Ranji and helping kids to steal guava or to set up a zoo. It
is my piece of sunshine. Till now I start my reading session with a peek
into this book. The streets of Dehra, the Tunnel, The apple train are
my haunts. </div>
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2. <span style="background-color: #f6b26b;"><u><i><b>Poor People</b></i></u></span><span style="background-color: #ea9999;">:</span> Fydor Dostoevsky. This name still rings a melancholy tone. I had snuck out a book containing many famous works of Dostovyskey from my Late Grandfather's book shelf, hid in my backpack and brought it 1500 km to read it and my book affair with Russia starts from here. I have since then bought many books from Russian Authors. Almost so much that people have threatened me to pack me to Russia. This entire story is written in Epistles (Letters) between a man and a woman both of whom are poor. It will break your heart to read this. (His another novel "The White Nights" was moulded and made in to "Sawariya", the movie, I read this after finishing Poor People.)</div>
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3.<span style="background-color: #f9cb9c;"><u><i><b> Anna Karenina:</b></i></u></span> If Dostoyevsky showed the poor Tolstoy showed the aristocrats. When I began reading <br />
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this thick and lofty book I thought It will never end with all it's plot and sub plots. Anna, Lucy, Konstantine Levin will steal your heart away. You will always find a piece of you somewhere in the characters. Warning do not watch the movie without reading the book. It is a tale of Passion and Happy and Unhappy families.</div>
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4. <span style="background-color: #ffd966;"><u><i><b>The Scarlett Letter:</b></i></u></span> Hester and Pearl and their creator Nathaniel Hawthorne. A book about adultery and doesn't even mention the word once, the incidence once. Set in Puritan America. Hester's stoicity and Pearl's playfulness will make you pass through a myriad of emotions.<br />
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5. <span style="background-color: #f1c232;"><u><i><b>Oedipus Rex:</b></i></u></span> First tragedy of the trilogy of Thebes. Sophocles deals with the subject of incest and makes us
disturbed from within. This drama gave me sleepless nights and
goosebumps. This book, it's story just imprints in your mind once you
read it.<br />
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6. <u><i><b><span style="background-color: #f6b26b;">The God of Small Things:</span></b></i></u> A story of a Family and the story of History and all rules trespassed. it is the story of Ammo, of Inverted smiles,of the twins. You can never read it once. You have to come again to it.</div>
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7. <span style="background-color: #6fa8dc;"><u><i><b>Srimad Bhagwat Gita: </b></i></u></span>I know the eyebrows are raised. No, I am not religious. No, I am not promoting The Religion. I had to write a paper presentation for Seminar on Poetry and "Karma Yoga" in Gita was my topic. So, I read it. I read the book published by Ramkrishna Mission. I read it as a work of Literature and Philosophy. My learning be Focused, be Patient. My recommendation go beyond religion and prejudice and give it a try.</div>
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8. The Wuthering Heights: If God has granted someone enough ink to pen just one novel then look up to Emily Bronte regarding how to do it right. Heathcliff and Catherine and their all consuming passion. They live with you and with in you long after you read that last page. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_cLZdmhLMOL_gFSs6qCNGu813DX0ZLGen7RgSykT26aL49v8HoqiU9yZOagIMZdcIOIkwhCjNu4CsYvNTXQjL4y3aplUdmObqt_oCdLhmaqbpjqFJ1xcYz1XBZp9bKR8oLUJO3xbHg_U/s1600/216215.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_cLZdmhLMOL_gFSs6qCNGu813DX0ZLGen7RgSykT26aL49v8HoqiU9yZOagIMZdcIOIkwhCjNu4CsYvNTXQjL4y3aplUdmObqt_oCdLhmaqbpjqFJ1xcYz1XBZp9bKR8oLUJO3xbHg_U/s1600/216215.JPG" height="320" width="197" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-_cLZdmhLMOL_gFSs6qCNGu813DX0ZLGen7RgSykT26aL49v8HoqiU9yZOagIMZdcIOIkwhCjNu4CsYvNTXQjL4y3aplUdmObqt_oCdLhmaqbpjqFJ1xcYz1XBZp9bKR8oLUJO3xbHg_U/s1600/216215.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div>
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9. <span style="background-color: #9fc5e8;"><u><i><b>The Train To Pakistan:</b></i></u></span> Kushwant Singh at his best. I read the book as a 11 year old and those who have read it i am sure will be surprised. But I grew up as I turned it's last page. i finished the book in three days. Iqbal is some one you will love to hate at first then hate to love and then you will cry for him. The book shows the time when humanity was partitioned and bleeding.</div>
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10. <span style="background-color: #b6d7a8;"><u><i><b>Metamorphosis:</b></i></u></span> The troubled Genius Franz Kafka was! Gregory wakes up from a Disturbed Dream and finds that.....he is a cockroach. Yes, you read it right. The novel just shakes your soul. I fell in Love with Kafka because of this and the love is still going strong, </div>
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This is a small Glimpses of my lovers/the books I would die for. do drop in your favourites too.<br />
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Inspired By Indispire: <br />
<h3>
<a href="https://www.indiblogger.in/indispire_topic.php?topic=29">Submit
a list of your 10 favourite books with reasons why they made it to your
list. Let us try to complete a circle and complie a list of books we
yet have to pick.</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/search?q=%23loveofreading">#loveofreading</a></h3>
<br />
<div class="postedby">
Posted by <a href="https://www.indiblogger.in/blogger/68676/">
Jyoti Chettri</a> under Books<br />
17 votes</div>
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<a href="https://www.indiblogger.in/indispire_topic.php?topic=29">Indispire Edition 29 </a></div>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-59374323733763601722014-08-31T11:21:00.000-07:002014-09-04T00:11:32.285-07:00Canvas Kolkata-Kumartooli The Durga Puja Preparations - 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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As The Mother Eagerly awaits at the gates of Kailash<br />
To descend to the Earth, once her abode......<br />
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As Lord Shiva looks at his wife longingly....</div>
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Nine Days of parting is a shade too long....</div>
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Her sons and daughters fervently engage in creating divinity out of clay<br />
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The monsoon almost over....</div>
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A clear sky is all that they pray..</div>
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God creates Humans and Humans create a frame for God...<br />
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The daughter of This Earth<br />
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Is The Strength to the Supreme one....<br />
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Maa Asche......Mother is Coming<br />
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-74391806467762337752014-08-28T04:58:00.000-07:002014-08-28T05:12:21.103-07:00The Sky it Was-Thursday Challenge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkhkWM96HPQZroc1_zZFbM9wHLQ4CgoMWGGQs_Wqq-aLHx75f-bkeIhlXCIAbV-minfcr6fS2I_1FawYqS3buPbUcG0GYOIFVutJqrZ_zJWawDnxKsg7Fcsl3wc1PMVKpDrkiBsRG_LvV/s1600/Glimpses-Datta_4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifkhkWM96HPQZroc1_zZFbM9wHLQ4CgoMWGGQs_Wqq-aLHx75f-bkeIhlXCIAbV-minfcr6fS2I_1FawYqS3buPbUcG0GYOIFVutJqrZ_zJWawDnxKsg7Fcsl3wc1PMVKpDrkiBsRG_LvV/s1600/Glimpses-Datta_4.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Golden Moment</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Far away Land</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To the Paradise</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YjtNVahr7naRMv2Ix3tTOKkD8QdMWsdSbaUmOyZCi-laT7fSosQuMSM2_Z54ZPpCnPPWJeEMXhKd6KcE22hATy9LXWo5kz0tfZg8Q_8yd9CXoKRZO_5po-JEg2LPiorWjIT-Go6r4vAT/s1600/SAM_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6YjtNVahr7naRMv2Ix3tTOKkD8QdMWsdSbaUmOyZCi-laT7fSosQuMSM2_Z54ZPpCnPPWJeEMXhKd6KcE22hATy9LXWo5kz0tfZg8Q_8yd9CXoKRZO_5po-JEg2LPiorWjIT-Go6r4vAT/s1600/SAM_0026.JPG" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Homeward Bound<br />
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Kolkata Sky in its different shades<br />
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This is a part of Thursday Challenge initiated by www.spunwithtears.com for more photographs around the world please do click <a href="http://www.spunwithtears.com/thursday.html">here </a><br />
This Thursday's Theme:Sky</td></tr>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-84955777296453217012014-08-24T09:58:00.001-07:002014-08-31T07:32:09.606-07:00The Beginnings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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.........And I missed my train.<br />
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I sat on my hunches, panting hard grasping every breath as if it were my last. My heart kept on jumping in my rib cage as if it just wants to be set free, maybe it wanted to be freed of the body it was hopelessly pumping life in.</div>
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I closed my eyes and still the pain won't go off. I tried to get up and somehow dragged my body to the bench and sat somehow clinging my bag, the only luggage I had. I looked up at the concrete roof of the station and the sickly ceiling fan and smiled. I never missed a train actually and it was my first.</div>
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"Hello, missed the train?"</div>
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I sat up startled and looked at a smiling face. A pretty good looking face at that. Missing train may have it's own perks I believe.</div>
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"Yes." I said</div>
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"Well I saw you running towards it and I was in it."</div>
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"Were you sleeping that it took you so long to get down at the station?"</div>
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"No, I got in the train from this station, I saw you missing your train and I got down."</div>
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"Why?"</div>
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"Because I felt like it."</div>
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"Why?" </div>
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"The next train leaves at 10 o'clock in the night. We have 4 hours plus the train ride in our hands."</div>
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"So, what do we do?"</div>
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"Live the moment when we are still together."</div>
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"I don't know let us roam around the city." I smiled something in me told me that this is going to last.</div>
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Even if it doesn't last I wouldn't lose out on the moment where I can be in the road of falling in love with each other. Falling in love and the rush of this moment was so amazing that you could live your entire life in misery out of it. I was the one who lived in moments and this moment or the next moments were mine and I will certainly Live, Love and Laugh in them.</div>
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<strong style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;">This post is a part of <a href="http://blog.blogadda.com/category/write-over-the-weekend-wow" style="color: #b85b5a; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Write Over the Weekend">Write Over the Weekend</a>, an <span class="mo3zuxck" id="mo3zuxck_7" style="border-bottom-width: 1px !important; border-style: none none solid !important; color: rgb(0, 0, 255) !important; cursor: pointer; display: inline !important; float: none; height: 14px; list-style: none; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important; text-decoration: underline !important;">initiative</span> for <a href="http://www.blogadda.com/" style="color: #b85b5a; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Indian Bloggers">Indian Bloggers</a> by BlogAdda.</strong><br />
<strong style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'trebuchet ms', verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19px;"><br /></strong>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-50281710588642277032014-08-21T05:34:00.001-07:002014-08-21T23:27:00.320-07:00Sky on Fire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz40WL6bdPhgAYXcT5e3D1gOr2MT1Jyu0_J8p7iAvwCl8aM2uaT0ZWyF2QqWJCczV18kZVqgob6MrrKUkEiZKqSI1a3MJvujnEq7rNI6uAC5LUMxRs9gA6zcefMZ2zStRqN2ZvjYB4Ajc/s1600/Glimpses_Datta_1.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img alt="sunset" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz40WL6bdPhgAYXcT5e3D1gOr2MT1Jyu0_J8p7iAvwCl8aM2uaT0ZWyF2QqWJCczV18kZVqgob6MrrKUkEiZKqSI1a3MJvujnEq7rNI6uAC5LUMxRs9gA6zcefMZ2zStRqN2ZvjYB4Ajc/s1600/Glimpses_Datta_1.JPG" height="265" title="Sunset" width="400" /></a></div>
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My Sky is on Fire</div>
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The earth is not my abode</div>
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Hither I wonder</div>
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Remember I am the Vulcan</div>
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Thrown out of heaven</div>
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Still too proud for the earth.<br />
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-51028692075629887162014-08-15T23:16:00.002-07:002014-08-15T23:16:33.655-07:00On Empathy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I first stepped as a nervous newbie in that school little did I know how far will helping others take me. My first day in a new school and a new city was horrible. I joined mid session in the month of September. On the first day as I entered the class all the kids were playing as the assembly bell was yet to ring. I was all of nine and half years studying in 5th Standard. After assembly I was introduced formally and was made to sit in a bench in the last rows because of my height.<br />
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The first day was:<br />
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Me smiling a friendly smile at all.<br />
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All frowning back at me.<br />
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This went on for a month till the mid terms I used to sit in a corner and quietly do my work. The Mid Term elevated my status from a "New comer Nobody" to "One of the Toppers Somebody". Atleast people didn't frown the just returned my smile with a blank stare.<br />
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Then that day came: One of the classmates accidentally dropped his tiffin and I quietly forwarded my tiffin and said him to have it. He had his fill and I was a bit empty stomach but it felt good when he smiled looking at me and said "Thank You". This is what I wanted for so log a selfless smile at me.<br />
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It slowly became a pattern in the class. If a student got stuck in a particular chapter I explained it. If a person had a problem in Drawing I helped her. I was my Class' "Help and Advice Centre".<br />
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On a lighter not being benevolent was my USP. I was not an interesting company nor I was a beautiful company. So, what won me friends was my benevolence and empathy. <br />
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My mother said that they were just using me and I was investing my time on them for nothing but I was using their smiles to bring me joy.<br />
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That was when being benevolent helped me to become a better human. I learnt to be more empathic towards people.<br />
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True I don't give alms to beggars because I believe in empathy and not in sympathy. My logic is till there is life in you be the light in you.<br />
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I have seen a blind man selling incense stick in front of the Railway Station. I buy them even though I don't use them. The reason: I am respecting his choice of not bowing to easier means of work. <br />
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Swami Vivekananda once said - If you give a fish to a hungry man you fulfill his hunger for a single day but if you teach the man how to fish you solve his hunger for a lifetime.<br />
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Benevolence for me is understanding a person's problem and work together towards solving the problem in such a way that the problem never comes again and even if it comes we have the solution in hand or are ready to face it efficiently.<br />
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If I help a person, I address the process and not the output. For eg: If a person comes and says me to write an application for him or her in English because he cannot frame words properly I will guide him to frame the sentences and give him a basic understanding of sentence formation. It will take much more time compared to the process where I simply write the letter but in the long run it will be much more fruitful.<br />
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Kindness and empathy are two things which can never have a transactional value in terms of material. The only thing you expect out of being kind is the smile of the person whom you help. <br />
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com36tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-44526875744195057972014-07-28T03:54:00.006-07:002014-07-28T03:54:58.791-07:00OF JUVENILES<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I walked along the stadium boundary, I increased my speed many folds.No, not because I was followed but because it was a natural impulse. All of fifteen yet eight years in the constant shadow of eve teasing, groping, molestation makes you instinctive and alert like a deer in the forest.<br />
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All of a sudden I hear a voice, "tssk tssk" I speed up frantically and in moments, a boy hardly of 16 or 17 comes in grabs my hand and says "Come with me."<br />
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"No!" I shout back and try to bite him. He slaps me but I somehow manage to free myself but he grabs me from the back<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>"Kick them hard on the balls." </b></div>
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I remembered what my father said to me but he is facing my back so, how can I. I struggle vehemently making sure I don't shout because I knew shouting may turn this into a group thing and a lone person is easier to fight than the group.<br />
<br />
As I struggled my life flashed past me. "The Topper Me", "The House Vice Captain Me","The Good Daughter Me", "The Responsible Elder Sister Me.", "The Writer Me.", "The Ambitious Me.", "The Hopelessly Romantic Me." all flashed past me and I thought all will end. Was my life all these to come to an end like this? Am I nothing but a stranger's object of perverted lust? Will my first touch by the opposite sex be that of a horror?. Funnily I didn't know how intercourse is but I knew Rape was something which can even kill you.<br />
<br />
As I was counting my breathes thinking it to be my last few I thought that let him turn me and then I will kick him but then he left me and I saw that the reason for his sudden kindness was a car that passed by, I ran hard and reached to a place where there were people and soon faced another eve teasing.<br />
<br />
I confided in my best friend who was a girl as I could not disclose it to my parents as they had hands full with their own problem. What she did was amazing. She spread it across like a wild fire. i was taunted and teased in hushed voices just because I was a quiet child my emotions were not counted in.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>It made me very angry.</b></div>
<br />
A few days later while traveling by a Tempo (Ford Tempo in Public Transport Form) I was groped as usual by someone aged 20 to 22. I kept quiet and tried to angle myself to safety. All of a sudden a boy from the tution of my age riding a bike (in small towns legal age of driving a bike is not an issue) offered me a lift and i gladly took it. On sitting on his bike the first thought struck me was, "Oh My God! What have i done?" this boy had a crush on me and used to gaze me all day long in the classes. I became petrified remembering the incident a few days back. The way I was treated and the insults afterwards had shattered my confidence. it had robbed me of my childhood and adolescence. All the while he was talking sweet nothings and was having a time of his life (We didn't had social networking so, the adolescent love had its innocence) and i was having a harrowing time with in me that he would.....<br />
<br />
But he didn't. He left me to my destination and the next time we talked properly was ten years after.<br />
<br />
My anger subsided after this.<br />
<br />
I noted a few things:<br />
1. The person who assaulted me was from the unprivileged section of the society: He lacked education, had to see the harsher part of the life and was aggressive and brutal. He was so, used to be treated like an animal that he became an animal. <b>If he is a criminal in the making whose fault is it? His or the society? The Government?</b> who runs on Vote bank and educating him is a tough process so, create flashy schemes to lure them.<br />
<br />
2. The people who mocked me came from good families.The school where I studied was one of the top schools in the city. It has produced bright professionals. <b>But why did they lack empathy? Is it their fault or the fault of the education they received? Do we need to make our children a better humans first and then successful people?</b><br />
<br />
3. I hid the fact. My thought process was its a big stigma, I might be framed as someone with lose morals. My self confidence hit the lowest abyss. As parents are we giving our daughters the confidence they need to have in us?<b> We educate our children so that we have faith in them but do they have faith in us?</b><br />
<br />
4. The bike boy: Well, he was someone who was a Juvenile technically and mentally. Compare him with the Stadium boy. He was more privileged, more educated, rightly educated than the Stadium Boy.<b>This brought in a change in mentality.</b><br />
<br />
I am not talking about what is to be done with the Juveniles who commit heinous crimes. My objective here is to raise some points that how these can be avoided because on the day of the incident<br />
<br />
<b>I thought If I had died will hanging the boy bring me back to life? </b><br />
No. It will be justice delivered.<br />
<br />
<b>Will it stop all the crimes of the same fashion? </b><br />
No, People will commit crimes.<br />
<br />
<b>Why?</b><br />
Because CRIME HAS BECOME AN ATTITUDE.<br />
<br />
<b>So, how to uproot this permanently?</b><br />
Evolve into a better informed and empathetic society.<br />
<br />
<b>How much time will it take? </b><br />
Many years.<br />
<br />
<b>Which government will do that?</b><br />
We will do that because Government is<b> BY THE PEOPLE, OF THE PEOPLE, FOR THE PEOPLE</b><br />
So, we are the only power who will stay forever the rest will come and go in five years.<br />
<br />
<b>It's our Country, Our People, Our Children.</b><br />
<br />
<b>Weather the victims and criminals both are our children</b>. So, its our responsibility to correct them before their souls are lost. Weather a murderer or the victim both the souls are lost forever.<br />
<br />
DISCLAIMER: ALL THE CHARACTERS IN THE STORY ARE JUVENILES AND ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANY PERSON NEAR BY YOU IS TO BE ADDRESSED BY YOU AND ONLY YOU. <br />
<br />
</div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-50819528123939660362014-07-17T07:04:00.000-07:002014-07-17T07:04:16.082-07:00In the Midst of All Chapter 5 Part One The Ticket.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The door bell rang, bringing Vaidehi out of her noon siesta. It was winters and she dozed off while reading a newspaper in the balcony. She first thought that it was Siddhartha. He had went to the Market to run some Holiday errands with their son. <br />
<br />
She stood up slowly, her spinal chord a bit stiff. It was like that since the birth of her youngest son but the pain was bearable if one thought of what would have happened that day. God was merciful on them. Everything went of well twelve years back and she believed everything will go well from then onwards. Her belief was firm and unshaken. Any disturbance in the way life is today will spell doom for her. She was happy now. She was contended. She wanted to be that way. Vaidehi loved stability. She loved being sure of things even before they happened.<br />
<br />
As she opened the door, she was surprised. She saw her daughter, Devyani, beaming from ear to ear. She looked serene, with her calm eyes, beaming smile (just like Siddhartha). Clad casually in a blue worn out jeans and casual ill fitting white shirt with a back pack on her back, Devyani, her child, her first born. Devyani's presence always assured Vaidehi that everything was all right. She was calm, stable and not like other teenagers she used to see. She always had been "The Good Child", "The Good Daughter" who had a transparent face and was as innocent as that mountain spring. Her existance assured Vaidehi every time that everything will be as good as it is now. Only if she had known the turbulence in the midst of all this calm. But it is not to be known.<br />
<br />
"You were supposed to come a fortnight after." said Vaidehi with a motherly smile.<br />
<br />
"Ask your husband, he told me to come." said Vaidehi with child like playfulness entering in the home.<br />
<br />
"You have grown very naughty."<br />
<br />
"Yes, I know." said Devyani as she placed the bag in her room.<br />
<br />
"Now what do you want from the fridge?"<br />
<br />
"I am hungry, Ma. Is there something to eat?"<br />
<br />
"Wait, lunch is ready."<br />
<br />
"All right, will have it when Dad comes. Where is Abhi?"<br />
<br />
"Gone with your Dad."<br />
<br />
"All right."<br />
<br />
"Where are you coming from?"<br />
<br />
"Agra, why are you asking?"<br />
<br />
"Nothing, just like that. Where are you going?"<br />
<br />
"To take a bath."<br />
<br />
"You didn't bathe while coming here?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, but I feel like to have it once again."<br />
<br />
As Devyani entered for a bath she thought of Mrinal. She knew he was falling for her. His eyes told her this and this made her uncomfortable to the core. She didn't want to be loved. She just wanted to be "used and thrown" time and again till the time his words, Arghya's words dissolved in her unconscious. Till the time she felt like she had punished herself enough for her innocence. Till the time her love......<br />
<br />
She again started to feel the heat building up under her skin. Every single pore of her skin was set on fire. She was burning. She rubbed her palms against her palm, her stomach but it burnt more. She pursed her lips in pain and tightly closed her eyes holding her pain. When all of a sudden she remembered something. A voice, she heard this morning played in her brain.<br />
<br />
"This bag is too heavy, can I hold it for you?" said the stranger in the train who sat across her as she started walking towards the exit gate at Gwalior Railway station. He was smiling pleasantly and that made her smile back.<br />
<br />
"No, Thanks."<br />
<br />
"Are you sure? By the way I would love to see you tumble down with this load."<br />
<br />
On this she laughed aloud.<br />
<br />
She opened her eyes. The shower water was falling on her. The pain had gone. The memory of that voice somewhere soothed her.<br />
<br />
She dried herself, dressed hurriedly and came out of the shower. Jumping and Bumping into things she took her bag, sat eagerly drawing the bag to her lap and frantically fished out for the ticket. She searched and searched but couldn't find it. She took out all her clothes one after another and finally she found the ticket, snugly sitting at the bottom of the bag. She took it, it was crumbled. She opened it in a haste and at the back of the ticket she found a number. She took her note diary and a pen and quickly copied the number, tore the ticket and let out a sigh of relief.<br />
<br />
"I am going to call him" she said with a feeble smile.<br />
<br />
To be continued....... </div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-62702408938234732142014-07-11T06:02:00.001-07:002014-07-11T06:02:42.925-07:00Chapter Four Part Three Inception<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Waiting at that hospital bed beside the window, a thousand thoughts ran across Vaidehi's mind. Her entire life flashed pass by her. She saw herself as a small lanky girl of four running bare foot in a white cotton frock that one of her elder brothers had stitched for her, her pig tail loosening its grip with every single step, behind her was her youngest elder brother five years her senior, tall, a boy of nine was running fast. They had plucked some unripe guavas from the "Old Woman's Guava Tree". This was forbidden and doing forbidden things always gives a sense of mirth and pleasure. She saw her mother lying in her death bed, she was eight then sitting quietly in the lap of her eldest brother, twenty years her senior. Her mother recovered within a month after that but by then she had an innocence which reeked of maturity and calm. She remembered how Manu, the youngest elder brother used to fight with her for studying on that side of the lamp where there is no shadow and how their mother used to throw them out of the house and then they came together to hatch in a plan to get into the house. She remembered the time when she was eleven and Manu died and how she still dreams of him occasionally. She remembered meeting her husband, Siddharth for the first time, She remembered her school days, college days. Thoughts came randomly and vanished. She stared blankly at the window thinking all these. She lost track of the time when all of a sudden she felt a soft tug at her Saree. She saw beside her, it was her daughter, her first born, just a few hours old but she was able to recognize her, she knew her smell, her touch. Vaidehi touched her soft head and kissed her forehead softly. She was her bundle of joy, the part of her and Siddharth. The one who completed the family that she and Siddharth started building bit by bit five years ago. She was sleeping silently now and her peace gave her peace, "You are my peace, never be turbulent or I might break." said Vaidehi touching her soft hands.<br />
<br />
Vaidehi looked at the wall clock it was almost nine o'clock in the morning. Siddjarth had visited her the night before and had saw her in a bit of pain. He promised her to come by six in the next morning and he is never late. She was a little worried and a little disturbed at this unwarranted late. She was continuously looking through the window which overlooked the window to see as if he is coming or not but all in vain. It was nine thirty by now and she was getting a bit more disturbed. When all of a sudden Siddharth marched into the room with a beaming smile and tear filled eyes. All of Vaidehi's anger evaporated.<br />
<br />
"I am sorry...... I am late.....I know you....you have been waiting but....... Mother won't let me go without breakfast. I was rushing.....the doctor.....told me.....told me.....that...." He said panting at first then words escaped him as he saw her, his child, his daughter, his pride, she looked like a small fairy...sparkling eyes, prominent nose, a bit longer than the average new borns, all cozy in the white warm blanket.<br />
<br />
He lifted her and cradled her in her arms, tear started flowing from his eyes copiously as he looked from her to Vaidehi.<br />
<br />
"Dev..."<br />
"I know Devyani....the name you always thought of." said Vaidehi as Siddharth could no longer speak.<br />
<br />
They had many discussions about it even before Vaidehi's pregnancy.<br />
<br />
"The chariot of Gods, Devyani. Divinity, strength, direction all together you see Devyani we will have a perfect daughter." Siddharth used to say often.<br />
<br />
"And what if we have a boy, think of some name for him too, in case....you never know." said Vaidehi lightly<br />
<br />
"No, It won't be."<br />
<br />
And now, she was there in his lap looking at him with wonder, trying to imprint this face into her memory...her first glimpses of humanity, these two faces were her only evidence of a human face, her initial imprint on her blank slate of a memory..........<br />
<br />
It was fine for them as of now and calm they were at peace as of now and so Devyani slept in her father's arm feeling secured, as of now, the dice of destiny had rolled and it would have rolled further but till then Devyani slept peacfully and Vaidehi had found her peace in Devyani.<br />
<br />
To be Continued....</div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-84711327231716237482014-06-09T02:25:00.002-07:002014-06-09T02:25:14.303-07:00Chapter Four, Part Two, Numb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Now I stand here, in this empty room all surrounded by mirrors,
Mirrors of silver haze, mirrors of perpetual purity, I stand here
unclothed, hidden by black curtains, curtains, jet black hiding all
secrets from the constant gaze of mirror, I am crying but tears don't
come up, my tears are dried up and cries are all hollow, I shout but
voice has left my vocal chords, I see someone chasing me, a predator, he
is cunning full of stealth and raw cruel intentions, he predates on the
souls, tears the flesh and crumbles the bones to fish out the soul,
bleeds you dry only to use your blood in a vibrant painting of mirth, I
run all of a sudden clothed in red, I run through narrow lanes, I run
fast and catch every breath I run hard and I don't look back as I am
afraid his hypnotic calm eyes may seduce me to relish my own death, I
don't want to die, not like this and I run, I stumble on a stone and I
fall and I see a hand, his hand with a broad silver armlet getting hold
of my right feet and drag me and I fall...."<br />
<br />
The train
screeches to a halt and I am glad that I didn't fall, I had slipped
into a slumber and it was just a recurring dream, a dream I remember I
had always seen since the time I could remember, may be I am too
ambitious or competitive and hating losing, failing or falling, or may
be the Mystery Man, The predator is someone from my past life, wow!
interesting fantasies I have got, may be he was the one who was my life
once and had betrayed my trust to become my death, maybe he was some
tribal prince and I was his fiance and had been adulterous........<br />
<br />
"Is the seat taken?"<br />
I look at this man a bit pissed off, come on you don't break someone's day dreaming like that.<br />
"Is the seat taken, Madam?" he asks again, this time more politely.<br />
"No, its not." I say a bit sternly and look out of the window.<br />
The man sits there quietly smiling all the while.<br />
<br />
I stared at the window as I was not interested in any further conversation, for now I just wanted to be with me, just me.<br />
I remembered many things I usually do this while I am silent I revise the episodes of my life quickly, I now remember last year December, I felt so dirty I felt so vile and uncouth, I was walking towards my home and my mother was standing at the balcony, she smiled and said "Welcome Home Dear, Hope you didn't have the heavy back pack troubling you? You look a bit tired, are you all right?"<br />
I look up and say "I am all right" and open the gate to enter the home but me and my soul knew that I was far from being all right, I was feeling so, dirty that I could hardly look up in my mother's eyes, I entered into my home rushed to my room, and without saying a word jumped into the bathroom, I undressed myself and stood below the shower, tears started flowing copiously from my eyes, I held my mouth tightly with my palm lest my Mother might hear me crying, blood drops flowed with water, clinging my thighs going down reaching my knees, traveling my shin and touching my feet to reach the bathroom floor out of the drain, I smiled, my "purity", my "chastity" flowing down the drain. I was treated like a dirt, this was a date from the hell, he relished in taking away that thing which had hurt me the most, my innocence. I cringed when I remembered his face, his perverted mirth on taking away my.....and his licking of his fingers....I slumped to the ground placing my arms around my legs, placing my head between the knees, I cried and I cried hard, I rubbed my hands on my arm to let go of the feel of his touch I rubbed hard till they went all red and hurt me but it didn't go away. I sat their blankly staring the bathroom wall and all of a sudden something snapped inside me, I was in a continuous pain for so long, it was like someone is whipping you constantly and it hurts makes you bleed from the skin, from the flesh and then there comes a moment all of a sudden when you do not mind the pain' you feel it but get used to it, after some time you sense their is no respite from this ache so you relish the pain, you keep on relishing till finally it pains once more real hard and then it stops paining at all, now you are not used to it, you don't relish it, you don't feel it but you are indifferent to it as it doesn't exist and your life moves on as it should be.<br />
<br />
My mother knocks at the washroom door, "What's taking you so long? it's winters you will catch cold."<br />
two minutes later I open the door with a smile, "Sorry Mom."<br />
<br />
"Will you be getting down at Gwalior?"<br />
"Yes." this time I smile.<br />
"Come in front of me."<br />
I stand and do so, I understood his intentions were to save me from possible rowdies and mischief mongers who were ogling at me continuously and that's the reason he fathomed I was looking no where but at the window.....<br />
<br />
To be Continued...<br />
<br />
For Earlier Happenings Visit<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter4-part-one.html">Chapter 4 Part One </a><br />
<br /></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-89289622562291046212014-05-28T04:00:00.000-07:002014-05-28T04:00:24.054-07:00Canvas Kolkata and Beyond: Bishnupur<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTi3Ad24G_zhwxLEjZgjS5KciaAQQ3iYxcb2RpYOv9H6lwBBFCeUodz6pMRn7ShU3CCyyClDffVzdtJTZSqu4YLC3kufSZKY6cdoO8y-bNeNg4DbOVU9A5Oa1lUkUJwoJrNOnqDpaBiUp-/s1600/IMG_20140528_124716.JPG" height="240" width="320" /> </div>
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Bored in the city? nowhere to go? Digha is a second home as you have been there innumerable times, the city lights are deluding you? </div>
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Been in the city for the first time want to see and brag about friends about something they don't know about the state?</div>
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In both the cases here is your saviour, here is your option: Bishnupur, situated 150 km. off Kolkata in the Bankura District the small town of Bishnupur has for you a modestly good offering of terracotta temples and all those die hard Temple means Khajuraho fans yes it is not as spectacular as Khajuraho but it's sure worth a watch.</div>
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Transportation: What started as a statement "I am so bored we don't even go anywhere" from my end while having morning tea at 9:00 am one lazy Saturday morning landed us (me and my husband) in the Esplanade Bus Stop Of Kolkata scouting for buses, statutory warning the government buses leave early in the morning but then we got a private local bus leaving at 11:50 am the tickets were charged rs. 90 per head, this was supposed to be a cattle class bus that many sophisticated people might frown upon but had a fair amount of students, families traveling. it was nice seeing the people from all the strata of the society mingling together, all were having a good time, students going to their homes, families for a vacation, the farmers and the artisans were happy that their goods got the price they hoped for and I, well, I was just happy traveling. The bus started well picking people all the way and creating a good crowded affair of it, it almost stopped everywhere people showed their hands, it took a route via Dankuni-Arambagh-Jairambati-Kamarpukur route. We reached at around 5:30 to 6 pm in the evening and guess by that time the town had nothing to offer us so we camped for the night in a near by lodge beside the Bus Stand, The lodge was named Meghmallar, and a room cost us Rs. 250 and now do not expect it to a very grand accommodation it was just enough to spend the night somehow, statutory warning: people with OCD need not stay there as you might land up in a coma but people like me who love to be on the move have stayed in hostels and lodges love street food more than five star restaurant food its cheap and reasonable. <br />
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We woke up at 6:00 am sharp next morning, it was still winters (January end) we went for a walk, the town is nice it has a sense of calm to it, people are laid back and I remembered my childhood in a town of Chattisgarh. We came back and checked out of the lodge sharp at eight o'clock. We had a small backpack as a luggage so, it wasn't a botherance. We hired a Cycle Rickshaw which charged us rs. 250 for three hours. The town is small and it is the best way to travel as the rickshaw drivers double up as a local tourist guide.<br />
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The temples are all terracotta, with fine craftsmanship on their walls, the panels depict tales from The Ramayana, The Mahabharata and folklore.the upper panels depict this stories whereas the panels at the base generally have animal figurines.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-28PWqXYcJ5Ig5k6qZmU79TC0TKSdZIpv2poSGPqayK5dqgU3xuVtjYZR4OGLPbkXc8A-XFVMK0f8S5D_5bg2IZRGjQ8YgzAdqGyTkI0KVbbjcoAm45xXMfRTIkdXvCjzeSuAniyRpI76/s1600/IMG_20140528_142940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-28PWqXYcJ5Ig5k6qZmU79TC0TKSdZIpv2poSGPqayK5dqgU3xuVtjYZR4OGLPbkXc8A-XFVMK0f8S5D_5bg2IZRGjQ8YgzAdqGyTkI0KVbbjcoAm45xXMfRTIkdXvCjzeSuAniyRpI76/s1600/IMG_20140528_142940.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
The Terracotta Temples originally had beautiful white coatings made of burnt white clay which was polished but time and lack of maintenance has eroded that.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeo0e1hwIvWLake2VJasokuzBmzEOkcgYMOG_1gNx3a41ysA84g6CvazqcoBKz-ZjhlX6-FdzZbBtaD50xrOaSwlTOHah7RWF7dUimLTdLDwYRRwLqcDBQKjrEzu8XC7vpzbUWgDRbHul/s1600/IMG_20140528_143119.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTeo0e1hwIvWLake2VJasokuzBmzEOkcgYMOG_1gNx3a41ysA84g6CvazqcoBKz-ZjhlX6-FdzZbBtaD50xrOaSwlTOHah7RWF7dUimLTdLDwYRRwLqcDBQKjrEzu8XC7vpzbUWgDRbHul/s1600/IMG_20140528_143119.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<b>Shyamrai Temple</b> or Pancha Ratna Temple of Shyam Rai - Built in
1643 by King Raghunath Singha. The walls are richly decorated with
terracotta carvings featuring aspects of Lord Krishna’s life. It is one
of the largest temples.
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHoX-tujy0yWVOkuFKnJ-R0reI7LTFMJ7ecQbjcXisf9_99Rktmh3TH7O23UmSV7_yyI0_4mLR_sXK9YmfdLvNobWRsNIzrOASHs7BA_fVCHQEnxLs193f8ETGQueiYfx8PDXUDcVdvo_/s1600/IMG_20140528_143143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEHoX-tujy0yWVOkuFKnJ-R0reI7LTFMJ7ecQbjcXisf9_99Rktmh3TH7O23UmSV7_yyI0_4mLR_sXK9YmfdLvNobWRsNIzrOASHs7BA_fVCHQEnxLs193f8ETGQueiYfx8PDXUDcVdvo_/s1600/IMG_20140528_143143.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><ul>
<li> <b>Radhalalji</b>
</li>
</ul>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Jorbangla Temple</b> of Keshta Rai - Built by King Raghunath Singha
Dev II in the 17th century. The ornate terracotta carvings are set off
by the roof in the classic chala style of Bengal architecture.
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<ul>
<li> <b>Madanmohan Temple</b>- King Durjana Singh Deva built the temple
in 1694 AD in the ekaratna style, a square flat-roofed building with
carved cornices, surmounted by a pinnacle. Impressive carvings on the
walls depict scenes from the Ramayana, Mahabharata and the Puranas. </li>
</ul>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizenUXVAiK1hzG6ZCD5F6OGUN0aatXCncCuyaEUOcoIJjkizAXxIcb7QGT6UjTJwCGqs856i0YZpjT7vOKzwsUgMmI1zCFHhhVX1zJgLbmJ7x6HtTpelLvn1dvL0b57hYitu1pyexhZGmd/s1600/bp.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizenUXVAiK1hzG6ZCD5F6OGUN0aatXCncCuyaEUOcoIJjkizAXxIcb7QGT6UjTJwCGqs856i0YZpjT7vOKzwsUgMmI1zCFHhhVX1zJgLbmJ7x6HtTpelLvn1dvL0b57hYitu1pyexhZGmd/s1600/bp.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a><br />
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<b>Rasmancha</b> - Oldest brick structure. Built in 1587 by Bir Hambir
is a pyramidal structure in the centre of the town, where the deities
from the other temples are brought in a procession on the occasion of
the Rasa Festival. There are some cannons of the Malla kings in the
area.
<br />
<br />
The temples are ticketed, group tickets are available at Rash Mancha, so, its better to start from there. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTqkbDAS91rCSoHJ-CxsNcLWJ3gl14XmvQ5mHO8jyAm9uBbQ6T-wAynNfVID0xNs_IUV2pfYRwIpBV2teLJ68tXhOm8gbg5V4lQJwcM-UWx8FIWR590nMCbGWNT4GnSpMoIjkqFehyphenhyphen44I/s1600/IMG_20140528_143328.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="Pathar darja" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKTqkbDAS91rCSoHJ-CxsNcLWJ3gl14XmvQ5mHO8jyAm9uBbQ6T-wAynNfVID0xNs_IUV2pfYRwIpBV2teLJ68tXhOm8gbg5V4lQJwcM-UWx8FIWR590nMCbGWNT4GnSpMoIjkqFehyphenhyphen44I/s1600/IMG_20140528_143328.JPG" height="240" title="Pathar darja" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pathar Darja</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The entire trip took us three and half hours to four hours and we boarded a bus from Bishnupur Bus Stand To Kolkata which dropped us in Kolkata at about 5:30 PM tickets were Rs. 70 per head as it was a government bus.<br />
<br />
The Other Places which are not in the photographs:<br />
<ul>
<li> <b>Nandalal Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Radhamadhab Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Kalachand Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Radhagovinda Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Sarbamangala</b></li>
<li> <b>Krishna-Balaram Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Mrinmoyee Temple </b>
</li>
<li> <b>Malleswar</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Sanreswar</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Radhalaljiu Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Madangopal Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Chhinnamasta Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Jugol Kishore Temple</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Mahapravu Temple</b>
</li>
<li>
<b>Radhashyam Temple</b></li>
<li> <b>Lalbandh</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Gumgarh</b> - the place of no return.
</li>
<li> <b>Pathar Darja</b> (Main Gateway of Bishnupur)
</li>
<li> <b>Garh Darja</b> (Small Gateway of Bishnupur)
</li>
<li> <b>Stone Chariot</b>
</li>
<li> <b>Nutan Mahal</b>
</li>
<li> <b>The memorial of Shreenibas Acharya</b>
</li>
<li><b> The Temple Of Durga</b></li>
<li><b>The Temple of Chinna Masta.</b></li>
</ul>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-17183992993512935242014-05-24T20:38:00.000-07:002014-05-27T05:00:17.576-07:00In the Midst of all Chapter4 Part : one Dreams of Past<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"The parrot green saree" thought Vaidehi with a sigh, her B.Ed project was lying on the bed, "This is the last time I am going through all this, I can't do this any further. I will be a celibate for my whole life, it's a better option than this." two years of continuous visits from the prospect match for a husband does that you. Vaidehi had not slept for the entire night she was up and preparing the B.Ed assignment which was lying on the bed, she had gone for the submission today morning only to find the college locked down indefinitely due to a student's union strike, she was disappointed and to add to the further turmoils in a day her mother announced that "the engineer" was coming... the year was 1980 not many were engineers and those who were.... well they were out of reach because of the high dowry they demanded "I don't know what the fuss is all about I am a double graduate myself." Thought Vaidehi as she picked up the kohl but left it. " let it be the way it is, no pretenses today" but then those dark deep calm big eyes didn't need any embellishment, she was bronze complexioned, had long slender arms and long beautiful fingers, the saree wrapped around her casually but elegantly around her slender frame defined her internal calm, the tranquility of her soul. She tied her hair into a loose braid and tied the ends as her hair would free themselves of any shackles and would come to their natural state of a dark bewitching entity, which had enough mystery and enigma to bring her calm soul into a equilibrium where calm and turbulence meet, fall in love and coexist. "Vaidehi! They have come!" announced her sister-in-law with genuine excitement, she loved Vaidehi like her own sister and had clear direction in her mind about her studies, marriage, children, family and she was seeing her dream for her achieving fruition and for Vaidehi living others dream has been the norm, no she didn't mind, no, she didn't enjoy nor did she sulk for her it was a duty she was meant to perform, so, she did it, tying her hair, tying her turbulence.<br />
<br />
As she entered the room her eyes fell on a young man of twenty eight or twenty nine, the first thing she noticed were his deep set eyes, intense, ever searching, ever questioning, ever rebelling, they spoke on behalf of his soul which had a child-like inquisitiveness to it, he was fair much fairer than her, of medium built, her heart sank a bit as his mother and her brother started discussing, she was feeling I'll at ease as her calm was challenged for the first time not knowing that the nervous guy who had his eyes stuck to the floor was fighting a battle of his own as if his fire had finally met with a deep river and he couldn't decide whether this river will douse his fire and leave him all ashes or will quench his thirst for that peace that he can only dream for, he smiled and thought in both ways he has found his destiny, his nemesis, the keeper of his calm and now getting lost in this whirlpool of calm was the only thing he desired. As they both sat quietly losing their own battles, happily the prospect date of their union was fixed<br />
<br />
To be continued........<br />
<br />
For earlier happenings visit<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter-three-part-two.html">Chapter 3 Part: 2</a></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-56302818572607042682014-05-20T02:59:00.003-07:002014-05-20T03:07:11.296-07:00Canvas Kolkata- Victoria Memorial<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivSHfYRTERYhtRZeulY1uNjOxFAe8PxZvt82cklklLtAc9UPQsml9GkEBHhwAC2e0udOX2v901OCZPZ_IjZdYv05tyMeCRz5EnwbgV4f9hcQuvmpsE-lSG_A1ZCD0PXsBypCGC3anz_j1/s1600/IMG_20140520_150524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivSHfYRTERYhtRZeulY1uNjOxFAe8PxZvt82cklklLtAc9UPQsml9GkEBHhwAC2e0udOX2v901OCZPZ_IjZdYv05tyMeCRz5EnwbgV4f9hcQuvmpsE-lSG_A1ZCD0PXsBypCGC3anz_j1/s1600/IMG_20140520_150524.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sneak Peak</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6zd8g08jky59QnszHq14D8uA4zztDisIe4uUAD9r_Grw02z7aM_SEjgk7lgTcEtjGF1ZjsvAM0KBWzFVTbdnnjMWo1r8DOp7IOxH7Pmi5UklPN92p5YGq5GwGV0sLykXGOhyphenhyphenwRv1PV3w/s1600/IMG_20140520_150504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO6zd8g08jky59QnszHq14D8uA4zztDisIe4uUAD9r_Grw02z7aM_SEjgk7lgTcEtjGF1ZjsvAM0KBWzFVTbdnnjMWo1r8DOp7IOxH7Pmi5UklPN92p5YGq5GwGV0sLykXGOhyphenhyphenwRv1PV3w/s1600/IMG_20140520_150504.JPG" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prayers from a Tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhxKrGhQnYGKfSb9fBfWGEhFf6k2_e3FaokJZe_F2BZF2-QTyaC4BHhPtJfaLZq3upImt1HwG-FvCTa8fP8qYqI5DjjjKK_SqgBGO0fUoBzBCLQHR8BqHpt0otr68epKeVhNKcJyxE8C9/s1600/IMG_20140520_150434.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQhxKrGhQnYGKfSb9fBfWGEhFf6k2_e3FaokJZe_F2BZF2-QTyaC4BHhPtJfaLZq3upImt1HwG-FvCTa8fP8qYqI5DjjjKK_SqgBGO0fUoBzBCLQHR8BqHpt0otr68epKeVhNKcJyxE8C9/s1600/IMG_20140520_150434.JPG" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lone Black Fairy</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtOlAVMJ_vQvBPueT1zIFF_k0UdGEPKBblU7rGpTsgDkDuOoUiqkUj3RFNZ3PnHVH5KetzFMDJO7frKue72E_mmehi_DyKjnCD2rToTBbo2xzkg-usoPsCprVfTHPvJUMngEK4Pwn792J/s1600/IMG_20140520_150254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJtOlAVMJ_vQvBPueT1zIFF_k0UdGEPKBblU7rGpTsgDkDuOoUiqkUj3RFNZ3PnHVH5KetzFMDJO7frKue72E_mmehi_DyKjnCD2rToTBbo2xzkg-usoPsCprVfTHPvJUMngEK4Pwn792J/s1600/IMG_20140520_150254.JPG" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A different angle for the angel</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKG2UusePexwKZV6N0LJVV_teyHhXk2mt2_WdVSB7qJd4Abftp0kos8_KSgw2828bK5vgdgfe6MUgNh8CsghM7FPadiVnseYnEjM16jog6mCRa_IPTsuOs4OT56zDyheT8vOgxHbT1Imfm/s1600/IMG_20140520_150342.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKG2UusePexwKZV6N0LJVV_teyHhXk2mt2_WdVSB7qJd4Abftp0kos8_KSgw2828bK5vgdgfe6MUgNh8CsghM7FPadiVnseYnEjM16jog6mCRa_IPTsuOs4OT56zDyheT8vOgxHbT1Imfm/s1600/IMG_20140520_150342.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sky and The Giant</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIj2qaq_plMtavDBVSZM-65wr64MCdPFQxfKXHbvM068jXuy1hn2Yd2rZr_pcSMVTvfnN6Ohu37kPnuQD1yVJm2zCsTRE-4UWRFuATEf1LgV7b-hdWIyHKtUzDHG2KhCuOJ8wsFM85M1R/s1600/IMG_20140520_150137.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUIj2qaq_plMtavDBVSZM-65wr64MCdPFQxfKXHbvM068jXuy1hn2Yd2rZr_pcSMVTvfnN6Ohu37kPnuQD1yVJm2zCsTRE-4UWRFuATEf1LgV7b-hdWIyHKtUzDHG2KhCuOJ8wsFM85M1R/s1600/IMG_20140520_150137.JPG" height="640" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amongst Nature</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeU1qsMtG7fZHehVrEWfb59WHY9gqwfv_oSyMR02P-A5OQRh7ugbzO1xZ1jryVNJKWyzoGVv1fR2nJOrMgkL8MJxyx0kCvcogaJ11CF8ZC8cWxm0DMHs7ClTadp3Z9h0qjAi3KQ5qbSor/s1600/IMG_20140520_150206.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKeU1qsMtG7fZHehVrEWfb59WHY9gqwfv_oSyMR02P-A5OQRh7ugbzO1xZ1jryVNJKWyzoGVv1fR2nJOrMgkL8MJxyx0kCvcogaJ11CF8ZC8cWxm0DMHs7ClTadp3Z9h0qjAi3KQ5qbSor/s1600/IMG_20140520_150206.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All Bloomed, All Set</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn59vw3zaeoc2lOElorDlhlR5w3e726k6x8mMLWrUbLDVGf7L5o8QmBnc0gJQkel_CjrKi1Xc5HL1cUyYkTQu8nHGvOjbNiIYeJ_8kkTy5I_CMQkITYePrOwmb4tr3kO7Y43hk-Q7Zt6kv/s1600/IMG_20140520_145432.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn59vw3zaeoc2lOElorDlhlR5w3e726k6x8mMLWrUbLDVGf7L5o8QmBnc0gJQkel_CjrKi1Xc5HL1cUyYkTQu8nHGvOjbNiIYeJ_8kkTy5I_CMQkITYePrOwmb4tr3kO7Y43hk-Q7Zt6kv/s1600/IMG_20140520_145432.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Victoria Memorial Romancing The Lake</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXMxQO_OY4buNN9MUSeAJxRyI8SxtxwCt-e1zBskZmvUVXdiUiKF2xdHR09whP4ZDAPEMWCxMVE5xeXgApSCmBuhyphenhyphenXq-ZMSaf145yQeHUhPUSEuwxHUwFS3TMQ2SblF7Vo46O-XSTJRZK/s1600/IMG_20140520_145530.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBXMxQO_OY4buNN9MUSeAJxRyI8SxtxwCt-e1zBskZmvUVXdiUiKF2xdHR09whP4ZDAPEMWCxMVE5xeXgApSCmBuhyphenhyphenXq-ZMSaf145yQeHUhPUSEuwxHUwFS3TMQ2SblF7Vo46O-XSTJRZK/s1600/IMG_20140520_145530.JPG" height="384" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The City Sky From The Victoria Memorial Gardens</td></tr>
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<br /></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-66748045556408853712014-05-18T10:18:00.001-07:002014-08-12T21:27:39.378-07:00In the Midst of All Chapter Three Part Two, stay<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When Devyani came out from the bath, Mrinal was awake, still lying in the bed, "You are looking fresh and beautiful. Sorry, I kept you up all night, talking what not, I didn't realize when I fell asleep, you must be thinking, 'what is this guy, how can he sleep around with random women and am I just one on the list'. I wonder while thinking all this you could actually sleep."<br />
<br />
"Don't over think and over estimate yourself, there are many reasons for me, other than you to keep me up all night" Devyani smiled while rubbing her hair with the towel, "And since you have got up early let's go out and fetch some breakfast as I am starving, you can come back after that and take a bath and all."<br />
<br />
"All right let me brush and freshen up a bit while you carry on with your grooming though I would love to see the magic potion used on that but then never mind."<br />
<br />
"There is no magic in this world."<br />
"Well you are magical, so, are you out of this world?"<br />
"Whoa! From where does all these nonsense comes from Mr. Mrinal Saxena?" Devyani said with a sarcasm filled smile.<br />
<br />
"You are a bong aren't you supposed to be a bit sweeter?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Bitter sweet that's me. Now hurry up, I am famished."<br />
<br />
"Just stop falling in love with her by every passing second. She is not even properly attracted towards you." Mrinal said to the mirror while brushing his teeth. Ten minutes later they were having tea and bread by the roadside that's all they could manage in the half woken winter sky of Delhi.<br />
<br />
The entire day they roamed seeing places, Qutub Minar, Lodhi Gardens and so on and Devyani went on blabbering about the history of the place. "Let's catch a metro and catch a movie, shall we?" Mrinal managed to speak amongst the encyclopedic attack.<br />
<br />
"Yes, sure why not. So, sorry I become a preacher sometimes."<br />
<br />
At the metro station Mrinal boasted about the Delhi Metro infrastructure and Devyani listened intently.<br />
"Kolkata has metro since 1984." Devyani finally spoke.<br />
"Hey you don't even live there."<br />
"Yes,I kind of wish to."<br />
"Home sick?"<br />
"No, just felt I should say that."<br />
"Virudh" the movie that was playing, they bought two tickets, the hall was sparsely filled, they settled down, the movie was about a father fighting for the sake of his posthumous son's justice.Devyani always found family relations her weakness, she was absorbed in the movie when Mrinal held Devyani's hand softly and when Devyani looked towards Mrinal,startled he was looking at the screen contended,no, he was not watching the movie.<br />
Devyani was silent all the way they reached at their room after dinner and lied silently side by side. They laid awake for an hour and then suddenly Mrinal turned to his side traced his finger from Devyani's earlobe to her lower jaw bone to her chin lifted her chin and softly kissed her on the lips and then her forehead. "Stay." just one word he spoke and laid there wrapping his hands around her and inhaling in the air through her hair. Devyani laid awake, her mind reverting to the chasm of her heart.<br />
<br />
The phone rang Devyani got up with a start. It was her Dad calling. She took the phone got up from the bed and cleared her throat and received the call."Yes, Babai Good Morning"<br />
"Good Morning! How is my princess today. Mom is missing you come on in."<br />
"Sure Babai, I will be there within noon." she said hanging up and jumping into the shower she smiled thinking of her Dad it was he who was missing her and her Mom was too composed to express her feelings this openly. She got ready packed her bags and woke up Mrinal<br />
"Yes, I know breakfast your only proper meal of the day." said Mrinal rubbing his eyes.<br />
"No, I will grab something at the station. I am off to Gwalior, she said gesturing a flight with her hand.<br />
"But I thought you are staying today." said Mrinal a bit shocked.<br />
"Yes, I am sorry Dad called he wants me to be at home today."<br />
"Is everything all right?"<br />
"Yes, absolutely, bye, ciya."<br />
" Hey wait I am coming."Mrinal rushed in the washroom and came out all ready in five minutes later and saw Devyani waiting. They went to the station bought a ticket and boarded the train.<br />
<br />
"I wished you could have stayed."said Mrinal finally words left him today for no reason he could fathom.<br />
"I never stay."<br />
<br />
The train moved and left the station leaving Mrinal a bit vacant a bit incomplete but then it will be all right as it always is....<br />
<br />
To be continued.......<br />
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For earlier Happenings visit:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter-three-part-one.html">Chapter Three Part One</a><br />
<br /></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-70270544850199242542014-05-14T01:05:00.002-07:002014-05-14T01:05:48.984-07:00In the Midst of All Chapter-three, Part- One, The Proposal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"If x/y=1, then x=y, here you go, simple now half of the cold drink is mine." said Devyani calmly with a wicked twinkle in her eyes, she was ever ready for a quick competition.<br />
<br />
"Not fair, it was so simple and it didn't come to my mind but do I get a drop of the cold drink at least, we are a team." said Arghya earnestly and with real innocence.<br />
"The importance of being earnest....all right you can have some." Devyani moved out of the room to declare her small victory to her cousins, their brother-in-law and cousin (sister) had come for the first time after marriage and had set a small competition of ten questions and this was the last in the series. When she came back in the room the lights went off, it was an usual load shedding. "Oh God!"<br />
<br />
"Aren't you afraid of the dark?" asked Arghya curiously.<br />
"No, it's real world and not a Hindi Movie scene, Let me grab a lamp....wait." Devyani came back with a lamp and sat facing Arghya, she suddenly realized she was alone in the entire floor with him, it had happened before on various occasions, they knew each other from the childhood and they were habituated to each others company, they usually met on occasions when Devyani's family visited their native place, but this time she felt a bit uncomfortable, her heart skipped a beat and she stared hard at the dark window to ward off the feeling. She kept on staring while Arghya kept blabbering about his recent breakup.<br />
"I thought you had broken up last April"<br />
"No, she dumped me two days back."<br />
"God! love affairs! why go for it! there areother things in world, how can you manage time after studies, sports and other activities."<br />
"Typical NERD."<br />
"Typical Fool."<br />
<br />
They remained silent feigning anger, and suddenly the lights grew dim, Devyani looked it was Arghya who dimmed the lamp,she was about to ask him the reason but he put his fingers on her lips, a chill ran down her spine, this was not her friend, his eyes were speaking a thousand words to her, these eyes wanted her, these eyes wanted to know her,to search her soul, to get into the deep recess of her heart, to tear away the mask she wore, to see her soul naked, she felt scared, scared of being known by someone for real, scared for her feelings, her secret love to get exposed, she felt vulnerable and she never felt like this before, she was perfect, a perfect daughter, a perfect student, a perfect young blood, full of energy, ambition, plans and no place for this stupid emotions and now her defenses around this perfect fortress were surrendering without even fighting, suddenly she lost the clarity of who she was. Arghya took her hand her kissed her palm softly, she should withdraw but she didn't she sat still, frozen. he kissed her wrists and went on kissing till her elbow, he stopped to pull her near and kissed her forearm to reach her shoulder, he gently sniffed her collar bone and reached her neck kissed it gently till her chin her head tilted back and she was in a trance, the world didn't matter anymore, she didn't matter anymore, she opened her barriers, she had this sinking feeling after getting off the pool with Arghya, earlier the day but now it was gone, she felt at ease as if she had always knew that this would happen.<br />
<br />
"Shit, I am so sorry, God! what I have done!" Arghya suddenly released her and she was still in a trance, she couldn't actually get what he was saying.<br />
<br />
"Let me check where aunt is, she had told me to get some things to the second floor." Devyani said calmly, she came back to the normal and now her ego who taught her to be emotionless spoke.<br />
<br />
She left, leaving Arghya, guilty, confused........<br />
<br />
"Look I am sorry, I know I have done a horrible horrible thing, I beg of you please forgive me." Arghya pleaded teary eyed, he was pleading for the last half an hour but Devyani was stone quiet.<br />
<br />
"Why did you do it? Devyani spoke calmly.<br />
"Look I am sorry."<br />
"Why did you do it?" this time the question became firmer<br />
"Because I love you." Said Arghya<br />
<br />
Her head spun a bit, she couldn't believe what she had heard just now, the whole of her conscious life she had somewhere, deep in her heart, unknown to herself too wished for this and it came to her, had it been any other teenager she could have jumped for hours out of joy.<br />
<br />
"Seems like you fall in love and fall out of it real fast, it's a phase, let it settle down, this feeling will fade automatically." she put her hand on the shoulder, smiled and stood up to leave.<br />
<br />
"Maybe you are right." said Arghya scratching his head and smiling.<br />
<br />
"Typical Fool, didn't even realize that I have always loved you silly, for me it will never fade....completely." thought Devyani and shrugged her head.<br />
<br />
The alarm clock ringed, Devyani stopped it, lest Mrinal might wake up, it was 6 o'clock in the morning, she hadn't slept the entire night, she removed Mrinal's hand off him and went for a bath.<br />
<br />
To be continued.....<br />
<br />
For Earlier Happenings Visit<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter-2-part-three.html">Chapter 2 Part III</a><br />
<br /></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-75257468361542776832014-05-12T10:04:00.000-07:002014-05-19T00:36:23.308-07:00In The Midst of All, Chapter 2 Part Three, Friend?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They reached Delhi, It was 5 o'clock in the evening it was Friday and they would spend the Saturday and the Sunday in the city but first they needed an accommodation, Mrinal had his graduation from Delhi so, he knew the city so, they caught an auto and lodged in a guest house near Hazrat Nizamuddin Station, it was a decent place, economical. They checked in put in their luggage had their bath and went out to eat as they were starving, they had some street food and then they roamed around like vagabonds, eating random snacks laying on the grass near India Gate. Mrinal was having a nice time, now, this was a girl who was laid back and really cool, she was fun, she loved street food, she loved roaming around doing nothing, his previous flings were all too classy, suave restaurants, classy candle light dinner and dance, expensive gifts,regular utterance of "I love you" and what not just for a one night stand but she was different, you could just hang out with this girl no obligations, no, pretences, no odd questions, she was too real to be believed. She had this child like innocence and the prudence of an eighty year old and slowly the thought of sleeping with her had taken a back seat, he no longer cared, he just didn't want to ruin the scope of a budding relationship at any cost, he wanted a relation, friendship, love whatever it didn't matter but he wanted her to stay.<br />
<br />
They reached their room, tired, after dinner, Devyani settled down at the sofa, tired bur contended, they ordered tea and gossiped non sense over it, Mrinal was not drunk but he was somehow high. Devyani was calm and composed.<br />
"What a day! Now tomorrow we will visit "Qutub Minar", Lodhi Gardens".......Devyani fished out a map of Delhi and started framing a tour plan for the next day her face was animated and she went on explaining the whole plan with her hands moving continuously but Mrinal was not listening, he was just watching her lips move, her hands dance, her neck peaking from that jacket of hers, suddenly he couldn't hold the urge "fuck the rules of never making a move first." he thought and grabbed both her hands with his hands and kissed her lips, her lips were closed and he had to struggle to let his tongue in her warm beautiful mouth, no, she didn't moan. He released her hand and hugged her reaching all the way to her hair and slowly placing her hand in that seep dark abyss, he pulled her hair and that made her head move back exposing her neck he kissed it softly and all the while Devyani's hands were where he had left them, she didn't hug back, so, she wasn't shocked, she had expected this to happen.<br />
"You won't give up easily" Mrinal said while lifting her in his lap and moving towards bed.<br />
He undressed himself and her to and she laid still.<br />
"You are beautiful" said Mrinal as he cupped her breasts and kissed them her skin goose bumped but she remained silent with her head tilted to her left, he kissed along the rib cage just below her breast "That is where the essence of your beauty lies" and he placed his nose to inhale her aroma and it gave him the kick he needed, he slowly kissed down to reach her abdomen and sucked in slowly, he placed his hand on her thighs and felt it all through "Shit, you are soft." He slowly tried to part her thighs bur couldn't "Don't." the only word Devyani spoke for the last half an hour. "Thank God! you finally spoke so, how can I ignore it. Let's not go any further but lie with me for the night, I will feel good." "All right" Devyani said as a matter of fact.<br />
<br />
They lied their skin to skin whole night and Mrinal spoke about his flings, his college days, his first love, first heart break and everything he wanted to tell but couldn't tell before to anyone, Devyani listened intently as a true friend should with a smile, no, questions, no, judgments, She laid their, listening while her soul shed a tear or two....<br />
<br />
To be Continued.....<br />
<br />
For earlier happenings Visit:<br />
<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter-two-part-two.html">Chapter 2, Part Two.</a></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-9406313836497602462014-05-12T09:11:00.002-07:002014-05-12T09:11:27.039-07:00In the Midst of all, Chapter-two Part Two; The Breeze<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
"Wow! someone's looking good today." said Mrinal dismantling the backpack off Devyani's shoulder while keeping a constant eye on her frame.<br />
<br />
"After days of seminars, assignments and sleepless nights, I am looking sood. Yes, Why not?" Devyani smiled with her usual sarcasm and rolled her eyes.<br />
<br />
"You didn't call for an entire month and then today you call me up asking if I am free for the weekend and ask me to pack my bags, what's all this?" Mrinal enquired while searching Devyani's brown, almond shaped, symmetrical eyes.<br />
<br />
"Wait and watch." said Devyani closing his eyes with her palm, so, that he doesn't read her, she hated that someone should go beyond her skin. "Come on we have to go" said Devyani.<br />
"Where to!"<br />
"Well... let's see"<br />
Devyani rushed in the ticket booth her shoulder length hair, bouncing catching the wind around in it's vice like grip. Mrinal placed his eyes on Devyani's receding figure, her spine was beautiful and where it ended to meet her hipbone, it created a pool, a pool of carnal desires and no matter how ill fitting her clothes were to conceal her frame, her clothes somehow clinged to her body now and then. Her bones were the best part, she was not skinny, her frame didn't allow that, her bones were strong and stood out softly but prominently at the right places, her flesh and skin were wrapped around them to contradict it's strength with their softness, she was fair but was often had a copper hue to her because she tanned a lot, her skin radiated a soft glow and was soothingly cool to touch, the moment when Devyani touched Mrinal's eyes he felt her skin for the first time, it had some intoxication of sorts. She didn't have typical Bengali dove eyes but they were a bit on the smaller side, deep set, almond shaped, symmetrical, brown and intense but calm, her nose was funnily raised as if the first thing to bump on things and her lips had that perfect bow and oozed desire without her knowing, Mrinal craved for her, her body, he just wanted to feel her but so, far he had known her, that is for the last three months and teice they had met on a casual date, she was casual, laid back and was distant, detached and he didn't hope that they will grow closer than this ever, he was charming, women fell for him, he never had to try hard, he left women wanting more he had this X factor about him but he didn't know how to handle this lady and this made him crave like crazy for her, he wanted to possess her, tame her unruly soul and most of all feel her softness against his body's heat.<br />
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"Two tickets to Delhi Please" Drvyani chirped in with her usual beaming smile that made the grumpy man at the ticket counter smile. She grabbed the ticket and the change uttered a quick and hearty "Thank you" and rushed in, no, she didn't run, she walked and walked real fast with her "sorry" and "excuse me" as usual.<br />
"Here you are" said Devyani handing Mrinal his ticket.<br />
"Delhi!?"<br />
"Yessss! Delhi....let's go."<br />
"But Honey...a cattle class ticket?....let's get an AC reservation."<br />
"First, bees have not made me, so, I am not honey and second it's a three and half hour run so, who needs an AC in winters? Let's rush, the train arrives in fifteen minutes."<br />
Devyani takes the backpack off Mrinal's grip and walks on at her usual pace turns once "You are coming?" enquires "Why not, Sure." replies Mrinal shaking his head and smiling his beautiful and tranquil smile. "Crazy breeze" he thought about her as he caught pace.<br />
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The train came in and Devyani and Mrinal boarded and fished in two window seats they put their luggage at the top rack and settled in and stayed silent.<br />
<br />
"You are beautiful." said Mrinal.<br />
"I Know"<br />
"What is it that you don't know." he said moving forward a little in her direction.<br />
"Well tell me that I don't know of as of now."<br />
"You know you talk to much."<br />
"Fine, then we part our ways on reaching Delhi or do you want me to take another seat?" said devyani smiling as she got up but Mrinal held her hand "Stay." he whispered.<br />
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Devyani shuddered, she remembered another whisper, years back.<br />
<br />
"Don't whisper" she said sitting down.<br />
"Why?"<br />
"Just like that."<br />
"you won't tell, I know you won't tell."<br />
"You know that then why are you asking?"<br />
"Don't know, maybe just want to know."<br />
"You needn't know me, you will get what you want without that."<br />
"What?"<br />
"Nothing... the view outside window is nice."<br />
Devyani looked out of her window and closed her eyes and started feeling the wind kissing her face while Mrinal sat there, staring and a bit unsure of the lady's intentions...<br />
<br />
To be Continued ....<br />
<br />
For earlier happenings visit:<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/05/in-midst-of-all-chapter-two-part-one.html">Chapter-2 Part-I</a><br />
<br /></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-11530819330213123032014-05-09T09:30:00.000-07:002014-05-12T09:14:01.333-07:00In the Midst of All Chapter Two Part One The Dress Rehearsal<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"I am so much in love with you that I have grown numb to all the senses of emotions around me. I have with me now, a single strain of thought and some fragments of memory which always mingle into my dreams and now, when I stand here, thinking, my dreams and memories are all mixed up in some lethal concotion, which I consume to survive everyday and to die a little every day. I never wanted you to be near me as I always knew that you are synonymus to my doom but then I couldn't stop myself and I got seduced by myself to fall into this trap, the hoax of a relationship, I had with you and still so, stupidly continue to have with you while you have broken free of the shackles that binds me still now and I make sure it grips me tightly and asphixiates me by tightening all the loose knots and thus ensuring that my escape is unthinkable and my freedom is unacceptable. It gives me a high to suffocate my soul and to tear down my mind, to inflict my flesh with the invisible but mortal wounds of your touch. Isearch my body to see a scar that you might have left on me but I find none and then I see my soul scared by you and feel at peace."<br />
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The phone finally rings on the other end and I hold my breath tightly clutching the receiver as if my life depended on it, I impatiently hear the ring almost choking, waiting for him to pick it up. The telephone operator is intently starring at me and he should stare, I mean, it's like this; I come here often sit and pick up the receiver, rehearse and then either call or hang up, I was again rehearsing mumbling these lines to the 'imaginary him' whom my subconscious and unconscious has so perfectly built.<br />
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" Hello, who is this?" Comes a sharp and distinct voice from the other end, I gasp and all my confidence, all my rehearsals just vanishes in the thin year. I become the shaky one once again.<br />
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"Hello, who is this? Can you hear me?" He says it for he second time and I can feel a sharp prick in the roots of my hair, my hand instinctively goes and I scratch my scalp mildly.<br />
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"Is Rekha there?" I blurt out finally and in a hurry.<br />
<br />
"No, it's a wrong number." A long pause after which he speaks again, "I know you are there.... I told you it's over, I am seeing someone else now. Why don't you just be more sensible and pragmatic and just move on; why? First you plead almost falling at my feet, seduce me, climb over me all naked and now you stalk me; really how mature! Oh God! What's wrong with you! Look it's simple I made a false promise all right, people do this from time to time to suit their needs,so, what's the big deal! What's all the fuss about? Trisha, can't you understand.......damn." The phone disconnects.<br />
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I am happy that I finally heard his voice after such a long time and I felt a bit more alive but then I realize he didn't recognize my voice I smile bitterly laughing at my own triviality and who is Trisha?......Oh that girl....yes, right. I get up calmly and ask for a bill, pay ten rupees extra as usual and quietly leave. I pat my cheeks, hand groom my hair, look into the watch......I am already late by two minutes and I hurry out of the station strap my back pack properly, tear the platform ticket, throw it into the dustbin.<br />
<br />
To be continued......<br />
<br />
For earlier happenings visit:<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-one-part-three.html">Chapter-1 Part-III</a></div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-18531012972970682042014-04-17T03:45:00.000-07:002014-04-17T03:45:00.036-07:00In The Midst of All Chapter One Part-Three Spring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is the fifth edition, For Previous happenings in the series</div>
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-minus-one.html">Chapter -1</a></div>
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-zero-prologue.html" rel="nofollow">Chapter 0</a></div>
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-one-part-one.html">Chapter 1 Part I</a></div>
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-one-part-two.html">Chapter 1 Part II</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg111t1ihpQa9srAr-4m0FSjwxxeo2K2mlCNZi8JUjiDfu92IEdRdcOd33U5GLeeGoWDqVLsOM9xBmPR1flKazYXpvvQ20Dl1xvQDs5no9jEAaoMWEGJvRuVCJKCDiHYPBHHxkB7cZ2fH5m/s1600/IMG_20140417_153643.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg111t1ihpQa9srAr-4m0FSjwxxeo2K2mlCNZi8JUjiDfu92IEdRdcOd33U5GLeeGoWDqVLsOM9xBmPR1flKazYXpvvQ20Dl1xvQDs5no9jEAaoMWEGJvRuVCJKCDiHYPBHHxkB7cZ2fH5m/s1600/IMG_20140417_153643.JPG" height="320" width="192" /></a></div>
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Spring</div>
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As I walk now, I see a myriad of faces, talking, laughing,
bargaining, the season is ripe the winters are over and I can smell spring
ushering its own way, The bazaar is as colourful as it should be, oranges,
raspberries, apples and a tint of pear and peaches with strawberries in a
little corner, cabbages, carrots all water sprinkled, and the chat wallah
vending out the aroma of the season, It’s the season of "Basant" over here, It’s
the season of celebration, of bright hued colours of red, yellow, orange, blue and
green are more colourful and vibrant than ever, their flamboyance has turned
the sky golden pink, it’s the season to be happy, it’s a season to love………….to
lose and to gain…………..and to wait………….wait for the moments which I know will
never come but then I just want to be happy in the make belief that it will
come and wait for them……………..search amongst these faces the face I have so
longed to see that its now always with me…………… I am happy that I had my moments
and this one thing no one can ever take away from me as they are preserved in
my heart…….embedded in the deep recesses of my soul…………… I seek out faces
create a collage to make out one face I seek out colours and seek out that one
colour that has coloured me forever……..that has made my blood bleed in
different hues but red……………..I have been a seeker and all my life I don’t seek
life but moments in life…………as I don’t live a life…………I live those moments in
life………again and again till they become me and I lose my existence in them………</div>
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As I float by these scenes I remember a day in summer which
brought spring in my life…………short lived but it was spring…………..</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JLyFAcZx96StGLZs2GCqNjjmdoxe3xEc9cXzsLD5tduQ8vcYlHBXfn_6cL2aeVnrdT1HO92_wOsvtxy5Tbbw7gxlAzYOEtYErA_cMUCtiKSSSTXEnedYSI2doFeI_CIir-ovnN6zFAJK/s1600/08032014361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JLyFAcZx96StGLZs2GCqNjjmdoxe3xEc9cXzsLD5tduQ8vcYlHBXfn_6cL2aeVnrdT1HO92_wOsvtxy5Tbbw7gxlAzYOEtYErA_cMUCtiKSSSTXEnedYSI2doFeI_CIir-ovnN6zFAJK/s1600/08032014361.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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(Image Courtesy Mrs. Basanti Ghosh (Maa)</div>
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<b>15<sup>th</sup> May 2002:</b> “You see I look at you in five
ways as a friend, a mother, as an elder sister, a younger sister
and………………….well my lover” </div>
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These last words sent shiver down my spine and make me go
all cold in a hot summer day- here is this person who has been my friend since
I was six and my every single strain of romantic emotion started and ended with
him……….his name brought in pleasure to my life “Arghya”-the water which
cleanses brought in my life a hope which had in it purity undefined…..his eyes
took me to a state of trance where I lost myself only to meet the person I
am…………………but these eyes were now looking through me piercing me deep to get into
my soul and I feel touched……….blessed…………but then how can I allow him to do
so………..he can’t read me he can’t know me its prohibited I can’t let this
happen………….It will break my family’s heart I can’t……….but at least I can live
in the moment while it still is here for me.</div>
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“Hey it’s raining!” </div>
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“I know it always rains here in Bengal” Arghya looked a bit
disappointed as in my excitement I had withdrawn my hand from his soft grip.</div>
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“But it doesn’t so often from where I come from…………… are you
coming out or not!”</div>
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“No ways………….”</div>
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“Ok as you wish…..your loss not mine”</div>
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Guess he was about to say something but then I couldn’t wait
after all I was all of fifteen and loved rains I stumbled down the stairs and
ran barefoot to the orchard straight to the pond and then cautiously climbed
down the steps making sure that I don’t fall as I don’t know how to swim. I
felt water touching my feet and slowly waded in the water, it was soothing and
the rain came out to be more incessant. The water was waist deep and I spread
my hands wide and my head facing the sky so that I can feel the raindrops
caressing me...................</div>
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I was there for maybe five minutes or so with my eyes closed
suddenly I felt a hand gripping my waist and whispering softly in my ears “You
don’t know how to swim………..if you fall you will die and I don’t want that turn
around and hold my hand I will love to take you to the far end if you have
faith in me to allow me to be the master of your life for a few moment”</div>
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I turn around and see Arghya holding me with concern and
seduction mingled in his eyes………..a lethal mix and I put my hands into his only
to be pulled in closer and start walking……..blankly, completely surrendering my
every iota of existence to him in that moment I stare at his wet brown toned
body and soak in the spiritual fire of my first mental orgasm, his eyes look
satisfied as for the first time they can see through my soul as I become
translucent only to mingle my existence into his…………knowing all the while that
my journey to nowhere starts from here…………knowing all the while it’s the
beginning of the death of my innocence………….. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyx74TXW2sJa8yh3DW4SK1r_mXjTPSRnSTWvu7oq0imFtcVXqVtNVi3H1g2UpFpykCTsKuPEPLPToH6qkbx7jfngmTAa-LMMerhE4g9f3f9cRPTjW9xmVMuQafoDYXKu_SJj93vQwsNtO/s1600/IMG_20140417_153528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyx74TXW2sJa8yh3DW4SK1r_mXjTPSRnSTWvu7oq0imFtcVXqVtNVi3H1g2UpFpykCTsKuPEPLPToH6qkbx7jfngmTAa-LMMerhE4g9f3f9cRPTjW9xmVMuQafoDYXKu_SJj93vQwsNtO/s1600/IMG_20140417_153528.JPG" height="320" width="192" /></a></div>
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“God! This winter seems to be never ending” I can’t make out
what Shahin is saying</div>
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“Its spring” </div>
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“Devu are you all right, Oh no! don’t go to your Blank phase,
look around you it was foggy all day and it was a bit clear just for an hour”</div>
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“Oh! I see, Tomorrow I have to go to my parent’s place”</div>
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“But you went a few days back, your seminar is day after tomorrow!” Shahin was clearly irritated
and couldn't gauge the reason of my frequent visits……….</div>
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This time I don’t answer her I quietly pack all that I have,
in my bag and stare blankly at everything…………No, I am not going to my parent’s
home………….I am going to nowhere..... to the doom......to the revival..........to avenge me...........to take a revenge on myself...........my innocence did cost a lot to me............</div>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-61686229463418119682014-04-13T22:39:00.001-07:002014-07-16T05:03:14.192-07:00In the Midst of all Chapter One, Part two Outwards<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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For Chapter One Part One Visit: <span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 16.866666793823242px;"><a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-one-part-one.html">http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-one-part-one.html</a></span><br />
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“That Discussion panel is biased” Shahin blabbering out her
frustration of not giving an up to the mark presentation.<br />
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“It’s not biased. You didn’t sleep yesterday and you didn’t
study. You were chatting out the night with your love of the life. So, dear
you get some and you lose some” I said as a matter of fact.<br />
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“YES BECAUSE IT WAS OUR SEVENTH ANNIVERSSARY OF FIRST EYE
CONTACT” Shahin turns to her ‘Oh so Bossy loud Whisper’ mode.<br />
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This, kind of irritates
me but then it’s cool.What I find amusing is her memory when it comes to
remember the dates and her dementia when it comes to remember the dates of the
tests.<br />
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Strange thing memory is, you remember only what you want to……………</div>
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“Why are you laughing………..it was important………….but then
you-wont-understand! Never been in relationship………never been in love………..”Said Shahin, watching me laugh.<br />
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Ouch that hurts but then it’s all right. I have never been in a relationship with a
real human. It’s my dreams and just a fragment of my imagination. I have never been in love
as I always am falling in love.</div>
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“Hey I am sorry I didn't mean it that way………I am
sorry………you OK no? I mean that you understand that I understand that it’s
not your fault right?” Shahin looked genuinely sorry but for what? Oh!
guess my face turned serious without even for a reason that’s so typically me
I sometimes don’t know what I mean or what I do.</div>
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“Don’t be, you are right I am not in love. Who wants to be
in love? When you are addicted to the feeling of getting into something
new.” </div>
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“You are a b-i-t-c-h” Shahin’s reaction when I point at the
guy who is sitting to a table just before us and is staring at me………and now is
smiling and what made him do that was a bit of motivation, as I call it usually</div>
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“Well he is coming right?..............How do you do this?
Shahin just can’t help to not know</div>
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“Well its simple I fall in love with the person for that
moment”</div>
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“And what do you get out of it?”</div>
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“Nothing just for fun”</div>
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“Going at this rate you won’t be able to commit”</div>
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“Who wants to……”</div>
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As I sit there blankly, flirting a song keeps on playing in
my mind “Khela Ghor Bandhte Legechi Amar Moner Bhitore……Koto raat tai
tohjegechi….bolbo ki tore”…………I am building a home of mere pretenses and hopes
that will never get fulfilled deep within my heart…………..That’s the reason why I
am Insomniac for so many nights………how to tell you this……..” </div>
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“Hi I am Lucky” this is how this guy comes up and introduces
him</div>
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“Not yet” I know it’s cheesy but I say this as it looks and
sounds good when flirting</div>
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“But want to” Oh my God! ‘Super cheesy alert’, this is going
to be fun.</div>
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“I am Devyani” I extend my hand to a rather prolonged
handshake…interesting</div>
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“Wow interesting name…what does it mean?” Nothing
interesting in it, say it directly my profile is interesting</div>
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“Charioteer of the Gods” I could seeShahin eyeing me and
criticizing me a hand full</div>
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“Guess Lucky I have to leave catch you some other time here
or anywhere”</div>
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“But when?”</div>
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“When we meet again” I say it while looking back as I leave.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Shahin is angry and pissed off I guess but I
like it…..God! I love Pissing off friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">To be continued............</span><br />
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-79203834984135305742014-04-08T06:10:00.000-07:002014-07-16T04:55:39.551-07:00In the Midst of All- Chapter- One Part one Sunlight and Shadows<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVeqOoo1NTO-_2ULerf5MrcMzw92z2AzhMDtOvzPePmtOr5YQcxYwffJXiVGYnkk6rKuqchi-ciGb4SZD343HmzQZLlD79xbVF2IfIqyC-D0t9HT8BpNXDLBI5mg6tLtwesPsKMKakS6CS/s1600/IMG_20140405_145429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVeqOoo1NTO-_2ULerf5MrcMzw92z2AzhMDtOvzPePmtOr5YQcxYwffJXiVGYnkk6rKuqchi-ciGb4SZD343HmzQZLlD79xbVF2IfIqyC-D0t9HT8BpNXDLBI5mg6tLtwesPsKMKakS6CS/s1600/IMG_20140405_145429.jpg" height="192" width="320" /></a></div>
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"The problem with love is that it’s love and can’t be
altered or tailor made to suit our needs, times and time. Its relentless,
unassuming, all loosing yet all usurping, all consuming, it destroys, breaks,
makes and keeps you guessing till the end"<br />
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“This is not how we can compare Romantic tragedies with
Classical Tragedies” said Shahin, peeping into the scribble I had written on my seminar paper.<br />
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Now this is Shahin eternal nosy in her best avatar! Come
on, what is her problem!<br />
<br />
"I am doing my papers, all right. I know it’s my turn next I am almost finished and I
scribbled some incoherent lines. What’s the big deal in that ! Why to make a fuss
out of everything. I never say anything when she talks the whole night out
speaking sweet nothings to her boyfriend while I lay dreaming waking and doing
what not." I think aloud but don't gather enough courage to speak out all these to her.<br />
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”HELLO YOUR TURN NEXT” She tunes into her ‘Oh so Bossy loud
Whisper’ mode.</div>
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That’s enough of a provocation to make me speak out finally."
Oh God! I know that..it’s over, see! I was writing all the while.”</div>
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“Yes but were you concentrating?”</div>
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“YESSSS” I shout back in Whisper</div>
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“Ok as you wish and think” now here’s my submissive girl (no
pun intended I guess)</div>
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Ok now the moment of truth, my presentation, as I walk towards
the Dias I see eyes scrutinizing me trying to guess what is in my mind but
these eyes don’t turn me on as those eyes did and will always do but they are
making me nervous….</div>
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“So Here is Miss Devyani Roy, with her paper hot and fresh
straight out of the oven. So good for the health” Miss NJ with her sugar coated
sarcastic voice which you love to hear but kind of hate to listen at least now.</div>
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But then love costs even when it’s a dream but then who
was it who was there in the end………..I know him but why he? Well let’s quit it
and present the paper.<br />
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I quit my train of thoughts and present the Paper. <br />
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“Comparison Between Oedipus and Jakarta – Oedipus Rex and
Antony-Cleopatra –Antony Cleopatra”<br />
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My paper and as I read out aloud I can hear
people sniggering. I know an odd subject to speak on but human relations are a
bit confusing, aren't they?<br />
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“Cleopatra was a woman whose appeal, as believed never lied
in her face but in her brains, she manipulated her way to Marc Antony’s heart
but then chose to stay there. Their relation was mature but at the same time
passionate and passion was what consumed them, their success and everything
around but then they were happy to be destroyed may be knowing all the while
the outcome bonded them in a lethal bond. But if we see Oedipus an Jakarta
share a mature and fulfilled relation they are parents of two children and look
after a land but they live the doom everyday without even knowing it, so for
one its Knowledge that is bliss but for other ignorance is bliss……..”<br />
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God this
paper is getting on my nerves wondering how my listeners are even liking
it………………..<br />
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………….Oedipus the man who made that land fertile again in
which he was sown. Anger is bad. It drastically changes your life in a moment's notice sometimes and sometimes knowledge is the poison which ignorance was saving you
from.<br />
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What would have happened if
Oedipus never knew the truth? The plague would have ended and he would have
reigned on. He would have reigned on with his wife. Not knowing the entire life that his children were his brother and sister and his wife was also his mother. Was it for him he had to know or it was for the world to be
warned? But then tragedies are made to warn us, to ward off our inner demons
before they devour us but what’s so
wrong if we enjoy being devoured. We enjoy being destroyed, ravaged. What if
pain soothes us?</div>
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“Excellent write up Devyani Roy” Rathore Sir, the first to
criticize the last to praise; the perfect teacher.<br />
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Today his words brought
me out of my trance. Turns out I had given my paper well and I could feel it
but I can’t recall……..my brain was working hard at it while my soul was
somewhere else, talking to my mind. I felt lost……….maybe forever……………..</div>
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To be Continued............</div>
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For Chapter Zero, Prologue<br />
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-zero-prologue.html"> http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-zero-prologue.html</a></div>
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For Chapter Minus One, Beginnings<br />
<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-minus-one.html">http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-minus-one.html</a></div>
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Photo Credits: Datta Ghosh.<br />
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-62989686050840638932014-04-03T22:41:00.001-07:002014-07-16T04:36:39.991-07:00In Midst of All- Chapter-Zero, Prologue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNI7w_berscQETU5XjtvsaDje20r3wRA05uxTUttO7Xvf6XYTrNKgUQCvHd3wFWM7bFk7UW3kAt90qehmZQYnovF6oG8gHhvUSdTcgcKLH5r_HLF6bb4hZPOrGTHhyvScWWvZEym7CN0P/s1600/DrawingCanvas13946486788731394648678967.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiNI7w_berscQETU5XjtvsaDje20r3wRA05uxTUttO7Xvf6XYTrNKgUQCvHd3wFWM7bFk7UW3kAt90qehmZQYnovF6oG8gHhvUSdTcgcKLH5r_HLF6bb4hZPOrGTHhyvScWWvZEym7CN0P/s1600/DrawingCanvas13946486788731394648678967.jpg" height="320" width="201" /></a></div>
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This is the second part in the story for earlier part and happenings visit Chapter- Minus One, Beginnings</div>
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<a href="http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-minus-one.html">http://dattaghosh2211.blogspot.in/2014/04/in-midst-of-all-chapter-minus-one.html</a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">"</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;">Now what was that?" was
her first reaction.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 115%;"> She scanned the scene around her. The first thing she
noticed was a stagnant ceiling fan and then she felt that she was perspiring
heavily. There was no one in the room, she was alone. She scanned the window, it
was dawn. She intently looked towards the door and strained her eyes but to no
avail, no one there.........</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">Then it slowly came to her; she was dreaming. She was sleeping and it took her some time to come to the reality from her
sleep. For the first few seconds (even minutes) she could not gather where she
was,what time,year it was, what was she doing and even who exactly she
was?................</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">"But then,......Oh my God! I slept and my
paper............. its i-n-c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e and who will help me?? Oh me,
myself, how can I be so stupid??" was her first normal strain of thought
seeping in slowly in her conscious self and this was enough to bring her back
into reality.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="background-color: white;"> She felt a cold chill running down her spine, her flesh burning
under her skin. She rubbed her palm against her arms vigorously to ward off
that feeling; the burning sensation but no, it didn't do off. Her heart started
to sting a bit and then she closed her eyes to gulp in a deep breath but it
won't come to her.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white;">It has been like that since she could
remember..........It has been there with her..........and the best and worst of
it.......she knew what it exactly was? it was an anxiety attack setting her
teeth into her very conscious.......</span></span></span></span></div>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-61150011253606687332014-04-03T00:23:00.002-07:002014-07-16T04:32:13.213-07:00In the Midst Of All- Chapter- Minus One, Beginning<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhCS-cmPeQ4x3ccitNEcLC37ZNORQDWNb75M_mSHKRocGHIhFbtBkfIQxn9_nDax83uhog0xqz0Iy-ME7pSwSyY3q0RrpzB2rK3jLonfDag4VRmB9_J1XxYAZVgBDFi2vAtgHIGci7ij_x/s1600/DrawingCanvas13965086033541396508603456.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhCS-cmPeQ4x3ccitNEcLC37ZNORQDWNb75M_mSHKRocGHIhFbtBkfIQxn9_nDax83uhog0xqz0Iy-ME7pSwSyY3q0RrpzB2rK3jLonfDag4VRmB9_J1XxYAZVgBDFi2vAtgHIGci7ij_x/s1600/DrawingCanvas13965086033541396508603456.jpg" height="320" width="201" /></a><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">"What is your life?........Is it what you
live or is it what you feel........." asked he, while looking suddenly and
intently at me as if trying to strip search my soul. As he says that the only option now was to
look at the blue lake and smile without giving an answer. His questions, I knew will never meet my answers. I was
living flexibly in a brittle life, living every moment as it passed
by.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">There was silence for I don't know what span of time but it was between eternity
and a few seconds. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">Then he looked towards the lake and smiled and said breaking the silence
"You talk in midst of your silence using the air around you as words" </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;"> This time I don't look at the blue lake, I look at him, I soak into his stare for as long as I can. At this moment I know he is mine and this I know for sure but the next moment he might be not mine. I don't know and I don't bother anymore. I let my soul feel his amorous stare touch it's existence and let myself live completely for the moment.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; font-family: Cambria, serif;">But then all good things hav</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">e a limit otherwise they loose their essence and wander aimlessly. So, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">I stand and expose my glistening and
shimmering diamond of a body to the mellow sun while my feet were digging
slowly in the pure white shimmering sun. I look at him and smile. My moment with him is over for now. My thirst for his intimacy around my existence is quenched for now. I don't need him, he is poison for me now. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Cambria, serif;">I dive. My
body feeling the luke warm water of the lake as if it is a soft blue silk. I
swim just like a dolphin coming out and diving in. Above me is a sky as blue as it should be and has
never been. A sense</span><span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"> <span style="background: white;">of serenity and
thrill engulfs me and then I see the white mountain. I see him again there but only
this time he has a different face still trying to strip me down to search
my soul........</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Cambria, serif;"><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white;">But then I shout "It’s no use I will not let you know
me.......love me.......caresses me..........where it matters the
most........." Then I hit something.................and think
"Now what was that?.............. </span></span></div>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-41032185098202245652014-03-30T01:27:00.001-07:002014-03-30T01:29:57.466-07:00Love beyond Borders<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKEhLk6amKe82DV8CAAOoqL8IzOPHabjUMOY7XiF9yuqZifRmUtOLzfDUFAfaPxh8_B3Lp-LAVyC_nIOZ6qEZ-E-rACAGD_utueOJx_xPQgEu1V9LhPfYkHpQMKCMZ-nZpcd9Vc5G8Ipp/s1600/08032014359.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCKEhLk6amKe82DV8CAAOoqL8IzOPHabjUMOY7XiF9yuqZifRmUtOLzfDUFAfaPxh8_B3Lp-LAVyC_nIOZ6qEZ-E-rACAGD_utueOJx_xPQgEu1V9LhPfYkHpQMKCMZ-nZpcd9Vc5G8Ipp/s1600/08032014359.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"What are you doing this Valentine's Day?" was my Dad's first question after I received his call.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Dad I don't have a boyfriend nor do I have a wonderful life partner like you, so, I am doing nothing and you know Dad, I don't believe in all this, these days only make the card and gifts company rich. It will be college as usual for me." was my rather elaborate reply, all the time I was wondering why was he asking, I can't get caught as I am seeing no one locally and I don't have any other dates on that day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"That preaching should be my line, you don't believe in human emotions and you are a student of literature! shame on me, I am wasting my money." was my Dad's over the top melodramatic reaction, it was a daughter- father humour we had.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"I believe in love but at right time" was my white lie of an answer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Diplomatic First born. Any ways since you are free that day and you don't have any seminars or exams that day do this for me, go to home, at Gwalior station buy a rose and give that to your mother and also make a card for her on my behalf. Please do this for me, will you?" My dad literally requested and I was again moved by his humility, I mean he could have simply ordered me, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">My Dad was in Gujarat and away from my Mom and it was the first time they were away for such a long interval of time. They had a twenty five years of marriage and we never saw them apart, theirs was an arranged marriage but I , who was always falling in and out of love had this notion of their love being perfect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I did the same as my father wanted and boy, wasn't Mom happy, She looked beauty incarnate with her maroon "Bindi" and Vermilion at the hair parting with white shell bangles one in each hand and red bangles following after that one in each hand, this is how married women usually show their married status.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-uoe_D4LOSZosT7no1G_Vyijg9JJUvc8RMc9QySdsjUQ8vQJQUvRJVOOA-8w3cGA7lWh3Sv9q1QCLDgjU0vvtelptIEsVLQjq_mgRci2N1G_Kxw8z8rvl55rKskPksK_jr-LiSqNEQu6/s1600/13032014376.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-uoe_D4LOSZosT7no1G_Vyijg9JJUvc8RMc9QySdsjUQ8vQJQUvRJVOOA-8w3cGA7lWh3Sv9q1QCLDgjU0vvtelptIEsVLQjq_mgRci2N1G_Kxw8z8rvl55rKskPksK_jr-LiSqNEQu6/s1600/13032014376.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"Take care of them child" I saw my Dad standing a little far from me at The Delhi Airport and crying. I got startled and came into my senses from the daydream. Dad had suffered a massive heart attack and we were going to him, He was no more with us and at that point of time only I knew it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JLyFAcZx96StGLZs2GCqNjjmdoxe3xEc9cXzsLD5tduQ8vcYlHBXfn_6cL2aeVnrdT1HO92_wOsvtxy5Tbbw7gxlAzYOEtYErA_cMUCtiKSSSTXEnedYSI2doFeI_CIir-ovnN6zFAJK/s1600/08032014361.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1JLyFAcZx96StGLZs2GCqNjjmdoxe3xEc9cXzsLD5tduQ8vcYlHBXfn_6cL2aeVnrdT1HO92_wOsvtxy5Tbbw7gxlAzYOEtYErA_cMUCtiKSSSTXEnedYSI2doFeI_CIir-ovnN6zFAJK/s1600/08032014361.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Life was not the same after that my Mother told us later one day "My life and it's joy ends here and yours will move on." I was not able to comprehend her, but now when I am myself married I know what she meant, when I think, "What if I lose him?" I go numb, I go cold and cannot think any further, my thought and life stops beyond that thought. My mother is living that 'unthinkable' everyday for the last seven years, and she laughs with us, lives with us, finding the glimpses of her beloved, her life partner within us.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQdjro7Hgepns6qZ1CQLnQOjgPVBsgV4Z4rvgOTVHoqfEiZmJx83RUytn_C7530jVpg4shrgpV4TS1NQSF3u7T2JRNItQQ3Z1DAddJdzJR9Zhox5uzjX7-jhjhuezFlTz1n_qgnv0XskB/s1600/08032014360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGQdjro7Hgepns6qZ1CQLnQOjgPVBsgV4Z4rvgOTVHoqfEiZmJx83RUytn_C7530jVpg4shrgpV4TS1NQSF3u7T2JRNItQQ3Z1DAddJdzJR9Zhox5uzjX7-jhjhuezFlTz1n_qgnv0XskB/s1600/08032014360.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">"The life was for years and death is a moment so, why to give death such an importance and stop the life for it, let's celebrate life, Let's celebrate the time he gave us." I said when I couldn't bear anymore my Mother simply fading away. I just had said it and she followed it, she lived for the life that she and her husband brought in. She remembered him by being happy and moving on and by doing everything that he would have loved her to do.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Youth and love are overrated when we fall in love and are going all dizzy in it, the thought that our parents are also madly in love never crosses us we take their love and relation for granted and when we fall in a soup we seek help outside instead of looking at the successful love affair in our homes. Being a daughter I saw them in love, I saw it in their eyes, in the moments they lived and loved together, in the moments they raised a family together, their love transcended the boundaries of life and death, happiness and sorrow. We are a family because we are bound by their love. To you- Maa and Babai.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqXVhvsKtgUp0mUpaRP97prSch-X3rtUkWpIYe8Ks9aunHUwBTWzZE7HVlHVRfcng4aLZ5XKYtE-ORSJswpX6PrVKfsQ6jTfYOQO-ZjZ99JMdfgr-R_4Mc1CheE6pwW-sq0j77wwDZ2Ing/s1600/05032014350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqXVhvsKtgUp0mUpaRP97prSch-X3rtUkWpIYe8Ks9aunHUwBTWzZE7HVlHVRfcng4aLZ5XKYtE-ORSJswpX6PrVKfsQ6jTfYOQO-ZjZ99JMdfgr-R_4Mc1CheE6pwW-sq0j77wwDZ2Ing/s1600/05032014350.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Thank you Maa (Basanti Ghosh) for being my friend and also being such a passionate person, I owe my love for photography to you. Photo Credits Mrs. Basanti Ghosh (Maa).</span></b></div>
</div>
Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7450990093741706503.post-49019084557234834772014-03-22T23:35:00.000-07:002014-03-22T23:35:15.036-07:00Musings of a delirious mind<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">I will sound so predictable if I say hills give us a much needed respite from the materialistic world. So, let's pragmatically avoid it and instead let me tell you about my delirious fickle mind which though is in a number crunching realm but is never there actually. My mind has a mind of its own, funny but true its a separate entity but then its true. It has the strangest calculations and stranger missions to accomplish. My body actually houses two individuals and yes, I have been counseled and very vehemently told that I am not crazy.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">I love confusion, turbulence; they give me peace. They are my ultimate aphrodisiac. All go for a holiday to find peace, I take a break to disturb my peaceful existence.And my peace was finally broken, after years of hibernation I was finally wide awake my mind was again back to my normal sense of turbulence.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">I knew the travel will be hectic twenty hours in a train all alone and then a fourteen hour bus journey the next day and the sleep deprivation for almost forty eight hours was something my body was craving for so long. The train was OK but the bus travel was straight out of the badlands of India. The moment I entered the bus I knew to save myself from the waking nightmare I have to sacrifice my sleep. Agra to Dehradun thirteen hours thirty minutes of my nerve testing. And how true I was actually I never got a chance too close my eyes now to put it more poetically i never allowed my eyelids to meet together i guess they missed each other badly the whole night and were cursing me for my stupid bravery. But while travelling and looking out of the window I remembered something from another night years back when I was travelling through the entire strech of the night, sleep had left me over then also as I covered the distance between Ahmedabad and Gandhidham my mind wandered between two strain of thoughts, two pictures; one had my father sleeping in a medically induced coma and another had my father lying cold and alone in a mortuary; the latter came out to be true and all the while, in a span of28 hours I had travelled from Agra to Delhi to Ahmedabad to Gandhidham, knowing all the while that he is no more, hoping against hope that I am wrong and he is alive,lying to my mother's hopeful eyes,crying dry tears. That night I had travelled the greatest distance of my life,a twenty year old to a 50 year old, strange the roads, the cities looked so identical across the length and breadth of India yet they sere so different while being similar. As I kept on jumping from one thought to another the night passed by sleepless. The cities were kissing me good night they were silent and looked tired, the shutters of the shops were heaving a sigh of relief as if they were the shroud that the shops wore and they were breathing heavily in their sleep. There were people running along the road seen in irregular intervals all night long still wondering who they were?</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">Six thousand feet above the sea level, read the board, my friend and tour guide intently closed his eyes, guess vertigo defies all musings of philosophy. But then curse nerves I don't even feel a proper bout of vertigo, it was my second day after Dehra we moved to Mussorrie as the bus moved up my mind ran blank and I sat still thinking nothing and my brain felt clear of confusion for the first time in years.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"> I looked at him and I looked out to capture the scenic hills in the best camera ever made, human eyes a thought ran into my mind, I was so fascinated with the window seats since my childhood that I could fight and die to grab one true, some things don't change ever no matter where you have been or what you have done the innocence within you never dies, the child within you refuses to bough down to our adulthood. Some people whom we know part ways with us silently and become strangers and when they come back, we realize they were never lost but were safe within us as memories or symbols of our phases. I pat his head gently and he smiles half in sleep, my memories of the childhood innocence. And all of a sudden I miss my brother, the purest form of relation I have ever lived.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDUHbKW3r3uLGIMH61yQVTDaCaifIgk6DAjRV4KWcYuAIBGNLD7fetelGzhlnIrJc35p2BO3PijgQOEQuETCl6mBStH6UQlwtGsdo61cjBTBsecg881t_ObLMy4hpNn7rJEI04IQincqso/s1600/IMG_2043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;">One thing that amazed me that people didn't forget how to smile, even the strangers smiled back at me and I felt at peace on the assurance of the existence of a simple emotion called humanity.</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt;"></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUnC86iI3P9lhsEGmFOrNZ2R3GNPCV2TLdxzvxT4GYjsMeQ6OfjDqIxxZcmN_XrcQajYIYC1llmsvvCFkdLqPbFMqRjd5fKmxWUX6QpZFRIkBTZIOdx1YX8sUv3SEWIoTJNVR3r5gAH7y/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLUnC86iI3P9lhsEGmFOrNZ2R3GNPCV2TLdxzvxT4GYjsMeQ6OfjDqIxxZcmN_XrcQajYIYC1llmsvvCFkdLqPbFMqRjd5fKmxWUX6QpZFRIkBTZIOdx1YX8sUv3SEWIoTJNVR3r5gAH7y/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">We
walked tirelessly towards Ruskin Bond's home, the local boy who was there
always for me while growing up everyone we asked regarding the directions smiled
and directed us somewhat eagerly. It is said that oxygen drops at high
altitudes but then why wasn't I breathless? Strange but then there was a
certain ecstasy some kind of trance that made me more alive. We reached.</span></div>
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<span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">As I sat staring the wind chimes,
hearing them a thought ran across my mind that I will be happy to die here and
if that stops the time here I will be happy to die, I came here in confusion to
seek answers. I was in a conflict, again and I was into two shreds, divided, I
had just discovered my duality and was running away from it still going
nowhere. The more I ran the more I got dangerously closer to facing my inner
most demons, I had led a cloaked life for the last seven years, sealing in
tightly my demons, my muses of creativity to lead a “normal” materialistically
happy life and I loved what I was doing still my old lover called me and it
told me to leave but I didn’t want to as somewhere while acting to be in
conformity with the society I had grown within me a dangerous thing for real,
Moral obligation and then it happened I heard two sounds one of bamboo another
metal and the harmony they produced together and then in me came a realization
that my life, my being, my existence is as multifaceted and harmonious in its
dual<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">existence
and now here I stand that I want both of them, I can’t be as crazy as I was
before neither can I succumb to conformity. My existence lies in this duality
and I was ready<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to wear masks while I
always will have two faces.</span></div>
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I closed my eyes and my mind ran clear. I felt a bliss never known of. I would
have sat there for eternity but then my friend called me up and I joined him
back reluctantly on my way back happy still and at peace.</span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">A special thanks to my friend Vaibhav Shrivastava for some amazing
photographs that he clicked. Image courtesy Vaibhav Shrivastava.</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Cambria","serif"; font-size: 10.5pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;"></span></b></div>
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Datta Ghoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08375800182580592805noreply@blogger.com2