The Cornucopia of Our Lives

In The silence of the concrete,
Steel piled upon steel,
Stones and bricks together in play,
And wood rendering the city still.

The cacophony and the birds drown
The silent pleas of escape
From the cornucopia of human life,
Freedom from form and shape.

And here you can hear the fish talk,
You can spy on ants homeward bound,
But the noise of human breaths unheard
Amidst the propaganda and sound.

Men breath, men fall, men laugh, men cry,
We fight for all and for all we vie;
Men rise, men see, men feel, men try,
We join the clamour and fray and then we all die.

We hurt what we love and love what hurts,
And then complaint 'bot Destiny's plan;
We forget to live every moment here,
And on each hurting word spend our life span.

Nor Satan nor God,nor Light nor Dark
Will ever help us be;
But our beating Hearts and pumping Blood,
Is what will set us Free.

~Sanchali.

As Above so Below

"Quod est inferius est sicut
quod est superius, et quod
est superius est sicut quod
est inferius"
That is the basic idea I had while sketching this one randomly.
As for the explanation, it's basically the liberation of mankind.
The pseudo yin-yang symbol(which is actually supposed to depict balance) has the Egyptian Ankh or the symbol of death on one of its sides. The inevitability of
death and decay even in the highest of beings is what I meant to show by that. The roots and leaves growing downwards is the search for the establishment of a New world order amidst the chaos of religion. W hile the drawing, if you see linearly from left to right, shows the development of mankind, his spiritual destruction and his want for enlightenment..
yeah, that was my basic idea I guess..
don't know how far I have been able to explain it.

Now he you parallel this explanation, this sketch and the quote from the Emerald Tablet that I have quoted above (and which actually means "what is above is below and what is below stems from what is above") I hope you will realize what I had wanted to depict in this sketch.

Ek Main Aur Ekk Tu :: A Monday Morning Treat

Frankly speaking, when I went to watch Ek Main aur Ekk Tu, all I was interested in was watching the lovable Imran Khan in action again. Coming from the Dharma stable, I had expected it to be a boy meets girl story. But half an hour into it, I was pleasantly surprised by this new boy meets girl story. The accidental marraige in a drunken stupor in Las Vegas is but a gimmick to get the story ahead, and the movie has nothing similar to Hollywood flicks like What Happens in Vegas or The Proposal.

The story begins with Rahul Kapoor(Imran Khan), scion of the Kapoor family business loosing his job of an architect and landing up unemployed in Vegas. A meeting with the psychiatrist leads him to encounter Riana Braganza( Kareena Kapoor) and what follows is the high strung mamma's boy going for a whirlwind of a ride with the spunky care-free Riana and falling in love over a Kuch Kuch Hota Hai song. They sing, dance and have fun in a way you and me would, and not run with open arms in fields and fall into each other's arms. But Riana brings much more than just fun to Rahul's life. Having led all his life under the diktat's of his high class socialite parents (played brilliantly by Ratna Pathak Shah and Boman Irani), he finally decides to loosen up and bursts out about his lost job, his accidental marriage, a certain wife of a certain family friend, that he prefers eating with the fork and not chopsticks and what not at a dinner party! In fact he learns to be happy being 'Perfectly Average'. But when cupid strikes, things go awry, and a sad song later, they come back together. But that is where the brilliance of the movie lies. They come back in a way but they don't actually. Well, you'll have to catch the movie to know the rest as I am not giving anything out here.




As for the lead pair, they do justice to their roles. Riana Braganza is a shade of Jab We Met's Geet and Kareena Kapoor plays it with aplomb. Imran Khan is a riot! From the deadpan to a cluelessly trapped bachelor, or a man who has just discovered himself to the frustrated and confused-lost guy - he plays a brilliant Rahul - someone all the girls would like to take to their mother.Their chemistry is informal and affable- just what the script demands.


The plot, despite being not that deep, manages to hold the audience through some great slice-of-life moments. The cinematography - well... even a noob with a 3mp camera can make LV look like a million bucks! Amit Trivedi's music is hummable, with 'Aunty Ji', 'Aahatein' and the title track standing out. And to top it all, the short running time of 2 hours really make things click.


After a long time, I watched a rom-com that actually managed to hold my attention and make me smile. Bunking the Monday morning classes were definitely worth it. If nothing, go for the feel good factor that the film manages to share in plenty this Valentine's Day.

Love,
The Scatterbrain

:: DURGA PUJAS ~ food, friends, family, nostalgia ::

The earliest memory I have of the Durga Pujas is watching the awe-inspiring idols sitting on the shoulders of my dad. I remember waking up to the beats of the dhak, with the tempting smell of home made malpuas wafting from the kitchen. On Mahalaya, we would be up at four,turning the knobs of the cranky radio to set it to the right frequency to catch the songs and the programme. Puja used to be waking up early in the morning, dressing up in new clothes, taking the blessings of the elders, and then running out for the daily share of adda, games, prasad, to the para pandal. After a short rest in the noon(for which my mother had to literally lock me up in a room), it would be dressing up in new clothes again, sitting near the pandal with my para friends, playing antakshari and dumb-charade, ocassionally sipping on Coca-Cola and munching on Uncle Chips. Late evening, mom and dad would usually give in to my constant begging and take me out to visit the nearby idols. Enthusiast that he always was, Dad would be ready with all the information on the best of idols and pandals nearby, and Saptami and Nabami mornings would be spent on visiting those, and then returning home with packets of fried rice and chilli-chicken. And the most special of them all would be the astami mornings. With a good few hours spent on draping mom's oversized saris on myself and holding it up with safety-pins(so many of them that I would be like a mini pin-cushion), and then give anjali, all the while trying in vain to curb my hunger(we were supposed to fast till the anjali). We would wait eagerly for granny to sneak out of the pandal with plates of sweets and fruits and distribute it among our large group - we were about 12 kids in the neighbourhood if my memory is not failing me. Comparing dresses, bragging about the new hindi songs that you memorized,gossiping about that cute boy in class whom you had a crush on, more cold drinks and more chips, occasional phuchka treats by someone in the para, running about and distributing the thalis of prasad to the nearby households and that innate sense of freedom for those five days - Durga Puja was inevitably the most awaited and anticipated festival of the year.

With the festivity season setting in, it is almost in a nostalgic mood that I look back at what the Pujas meant to me for the first twelve-fourteen years of my life. This year, Mahalaya, which marks the start of the season of the Goddess, was a welcome holiday spent in watching the latest movies at the house of my best friend. We gorged on burgers, pastries, popcorn, Chinese delicacies and lazed around the whole day before returning home in the evening. For the last few years, the Pujas have been pretty much the same - waking up late, having some breakfast, sitting with the laptop to check update statuses and tweets, surfing through the newspaper to see if some good movie is playing in the plex, then dressing up in those branded jeans and tees or boutique made kurtis, balancing on the high heels of the new shoes, or just slipping into the comfort zone of the converses, and then meeting up with school and college friends at CCD, KFC, HHI, Tantra or even Maddox Square. The adda sessions usually culminate with dance sessions at Underground or Venom, or even random photography sessions. Food is usually from the various buffets hosted by the city restaurants, wrapped up with Mamma-mia gelatoes and CCD floats. The dhak beats serve as sudden unexpected souce of alarm when in the mornings you suddenly wake up and realize, oh, its the pujas.Family time is the Navami luncheon with mom at Park Street and coming back home with packets of food, like old times. Para friends have become practically non-existent. Pujas have become an occasion for meeting friends and eating good food. Phuchka still reigns supreme though.

The reason I wrote this is not to pass any value judgement. Its not that I hate what I did back then or what I am doing right now. Both are fun in its own sweet way. The only discontent in my mind is that I no longer get to sit on Dad's bike and visit the pandals in the morning and come home to taste the yummy coconut jaggery balls(nadus) concocted by granny. Yes, some voids can never be filled.

Image courtesies: Google Image.

:: THE FAILS OF BEING A FAILURE ::

"He used to be a singer in a rock and roll band.

He would write the songs and I'd tremble at his hand but oh, la laa.

He lost poetic ethic and his songs were pathetic, and he's a failure now.

He used to be the life and soul of everyone around.

You'd never catch him looking up and never see him down but oh, la laa.

He couldn't raise a smile oh, not for a while, and he's a failure now.

Don't cry child, you've got so much more to live for.

Don't cry child, you've got something I would die for

And if it comes to the rain, just be glad you'll smile again

'Cause so many don't. 

And so many go unnamed."

Laura Marling's song Failure, more or less summarizes my blog post today. So, why failure as a topic out of the blue, you might ask. And I would reply why not summarize the condition of the whole world in a world - FAIL! Too pessimistic? Maybe, but not really. 

Lets first see what failure actually is - "Failure refers to the state or condition of not meeting a desirable or intended objective, and may be viewed as the opposite of success". Too heavy? You bet! That was copied straight out of Wikipedia. To me, failure is basically not getting what you thought you would get. You mug a lot the week before the exam, give a thumbs up paper and when the results are hung on the college notice board, you feel like - Damn! I passed, but I am a failure... And in another instance, you don't even bother to study for the impending exam, give a crap paper and you end up getting a 40, when you didn't even think you would get a double digit score. You say "Yeah I failed, but who gives a damn!"

My point, friends, is that Failure is a very subjective topic. What is failure to one person, is success to another. We fail because we think we have failed. That is the essential difference between having FAILED, and being a FAILURE. When we think we have "failed", its the way the world sees us. And when we think we are a failure, its how we see ourselves.

Ever seen an ant carrying load on its back? It walks, stops, drops its load, picks it up and walks again. Yes, it had failed, but it had not allowed itself to become a failure. Its just that self-confidence that matters. You never know, who might love those very qualities in you which you think made you fail. You are soft spoken, shy, can't express what you want to say exactly - you think you failed because of all these. Somewhere in the corner of this world, there is someone, who likes you just because of that shyness. Someone, who wants to shed their fits of rage and overt expressiveness to be just like you.

Failing is one of the most subjective attributes you will find, like most human attributes are. Do you always love what everyone else loves, see something the same way everyone else sees? Then why think yourself a failure when everyone else does? After all, isn't "We are all unique" a very true cliche? Fail, but don't be a failure. Wouldn't you like to celebrate that success party with toasts to every fails you have crumpled and left behind? So, in true Bollywood style, just place your palm on your heart and say All is Well... it may not do you miracles, but that extra dose of confidence never hurts.

- by a failed blogger, trying to rise above the failures.

Cheerio :)

You are responsible for your failures, and you are responsible for your successes too. Its upto you what you choose.

:: RANDOM GIBBERISH ::

And its one of those days again - when I have one of these sudden irresistible urge to put up a really funny and interesting blog post and then end up looking blankly at the screen for twenty minutes, excavating the depths of the brain for some sane ideas and then finally closing down the computer due to utter infertility of the useless brain. With the nice, 'romantic' and very un-Calcutta-ish weather outside, all I can do is down cups of coffee and check and recheck my the Facebook home page with random gibberish floating through my brain... So, how about a sneak peek into what's on my mind  -

• For the first time today, I had to wade through knee-deep water at Park Street - a first time occurrence if my memory is not failing me. While I detested the slimy dog-poop and god-knows-what-else mixed water, I cant deny that walking like that with your friends is fun [ though later on you feel like crying with a single glance at your jeans].

• Has Calcutta suddenly shifted to the Equatorial Zone or something? What's with the daily torrential rain in the afternoon? Or may be with yesterday's earthquake, and all this rain, some sadistic omnipotent person sitting right up there is trying to shout out - "Hey, 2012 is almost here you know... I'm gonna drown you all... Bwahahaha(*evil laughter*)!! ".

Courtesy: www.cartoonstock.com

• What were the "officials" actually thinking when they decided to change Calcutta to Kolkata and West Bengal to Paschimbanga? What? Serious nomenclature lessons needed her in the state.

Courtesy: www.wikiind.com

• Am I really spastic or does everyone have initial problems in mastering the barre chords while playing the guitar? And talking of the guitar, I am planning to graffiti on the black wood with white. Any idea with what do I do that? Poster colour?

Courtesy: kais-a-ninja.deviantart.com

• I should really get on with reading the never-ending notes on Paradise Lost given in class. And now that I brought it up, how would you not love someone who says stuff like - " It is better to reign in hell than serve in heaven", or, "The mind is its own place, and in itself / Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven" and "Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen!". If Milton was indeed trying to glorify God, why did he even give such lines to Satan?

Courtesy:foolishnessntears.blogspot.com

• With everyone saying that they can smell the Durga Puja in the air, the only thing I can smell is the Petrichor(smell of the rain, silly), the one month long vacation ahead and the coffee brewing in the kitchen... mmmm....

Courtesy:susanna1980.blogspot.com

• I really think fasting is the 'in' thing in India right now. After Sharmila Erom and Anna, its Modi now. Soon it will be like -X "Mom I want that new bag". Mom - "No, do whatever you feel like." X - "Ok, I will go on a fast". Mom - "Uh...erm.. how much is it beta? I think it wont be a bad buy afterall."

Courtesy: walkingthefenceline.wordpress.com

• A photography tour to the North East. With two friends, hiking and camping gear, phones switched off, a Canon S95 IS camera, roasted meat, bonfire - life WOULD have been so good. The closest I can do is probably a photography tour to the Sundarbans.

Courtesy :ehow.co.uk

• And it is Literaria'11 tomorrow,finally. The St.Xaviers College English Department Fest. We are so gonna rock, provided the rain gods do not start having their own little share of fun in drowning us in the deluge.

Courtesy:www.facebook.com/andy90

• And after all this nonsense, I suddenly feel like reading Kurt Cobain's death note once more. The man - the voice - the words - the legend - the inspiration and Boddah. For those who haven't yet read it, just go through this once - Kurt Cobain's Suicide Note. Who says rockstars are not poets?

Courtesy:www.kurtcobain.com

And till then, adios until I come back with some more fragments from my Scatter brain.
Sincerely,
A true scatter brain.

A/N: In case of any copyright infringement of the pictures on this post, please contact me @ sancho.dbest@gmail.com. The picture will be taken down immediately.

:: THE EXAM SEASON ::

Dear good sunny World,
Its the end of August and inevitably I find myself looking ahead at the bleak coming week, dreading it as usual. Its a pattern my brain has fallen into maybe...end of August, the start of the exams... Somehow even before the routine was put up in the college notice board, I knew what was coming, or rather my subconscious did...
All around me were the familiar faces dunked into books and photocopying notes...the usual haunts in the library changed from the Fiction section to the Reference section. But my brain failed to make my body react. I knew I had on notes... I knew nothing, but still I could not make myself up and see the routine or enquire about the syllabus.. After endless persuasion by a dear friend, I took the pains of traversing all the way up to the second floor of the college housing the grand computerized central library. When I came out, instead of notes on Milton's Paradise Lost, philology and Great Expectations, I found a fat copy of Stephen King's Under the Dome in my hand. My friend gave up all hopes on me thereafter...
With a week to go for the exams that are supposed to test our 'knowledge' and ability of the language, I finally bunked college and stayed up at home to 'study'.
To tell the truth, I did study to a degree. Infact now I know that Lake of Fire is not just a Nirvana song, its a part of Milton's epic; English is even lesser original than I had even imagined-god knows it borrows truckloads from French, Scandinavian and Latin; and that Japanese Manga cartoons are damn difficult to draw, 'We don't Need no Education' is very easy to play on the guitar, 'Under the Dome' is truly Epic in the literal sense of the word, Google Plus can never compete with Facebook, Iridescent is my favourite Linkin Park number... get the drift?
And in such an elevated state of mind I will in to write the examinations... another exam season will come to an end soon... I will again promise to myself to sit with my books at least once... And once more I will drift off into a world that's essentially my own and necessarily free of all lines of examinations.
~sincerely,
A harassed and worn out student.