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The Right and The Hypocrite

I made a new friend recently. We planned for a movie one day. I was quite excited about it and got ready early so that we won't be late for the movie. Some how she turned up very late and then we missed the initial part of the movie. This happened for 2-3 times and then I got really angry and gave her a little sermon on the importance of some level of punctuality.

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Balcony to Philosophy

Kolkata skyline as viewed from the Hoogly bridge

The white Ambassador car stopped in front of a building. I looked at the building trying to see if it was the one I visited 7 years back.  I saw a spectacled face from a balcony looking straight at the taxi. The strong continuous gaze could only be hers. She had been waiting for more than an hour and I know this is how she waits. Why did I take so long to be back here? I climbed the one floor I had to and she opened the door before I could knock. She would not demonstrate her feelings and I could not hold them any more. I hugged her and felt her hug as gentle as her form. She was dressed in a cotton light pink sari with red threaded border wrapped with carelessness of routine, showing crush folds like wrinkles and yet its beauty shining through like her affection. She asked me to put my bag in the room which she had carefully readied for me. She has a hurried way of talking, delivering information quickly and only if you ask her further and slowly, does she reply slowly and in detail. She is more than 75 years old for sure. She is short, thin and fair with her hair still carrying tinge of black, plaited and tied as a knot at the back of her head low down, almost on her neck. She wears something around her neck, moves barefoot within her home and keeps her foot on the floor unhurriedly, with care. She loves to keep the water tap in the kitchen open while she is in the kitchen and can peel and cut vegetables with the deftness of a master chef. Her home carried the past with photographs on the walls of the living room and in her room. She shows me pictures of her grandson, Joy, the word meaning victory in Bengali language. She laments that she can no longer communicate with him for he does not know Bangla and she cannot speak English well. She believes that her grandson will not appreciate her speaking english unless she spoke the proper way and so all she says to him is, I love you and he says back, I love you too. She knows he has grown taller, she is not sure if his voice is breaking. She knows he is beginning to have a beard and she tells her son that she is uncomfortable with it coming so soon, that he is just 12. She remembers he did not eat well and so when she once got to know from her daughter in law's Mom, that Joy ate something well, she asked her son about it. When he confirmed that Muesli with coconut water cooked by him was well eaten by Joy, she immediately asked the recipe. She recalls how her son, Bobby did not cook or do stuff at home earlier but had learnt to do so much after being married. She thinks everyone must know how to cook at least a few things. 

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Ilaiyaraja – SP Balasubrahmanyam Controversy: My Thoughts

Recently, there has been a lot of media news regarding Ilaiyaraja sending a legal notice to SP Balasubrahmanyam on him singing the former’s songs without his permission. This has invoked a lot of response from national media, and has led to some people taking sides with Ilaiyaraja or SPB.

As a follower of this issue, I believe that a lot of the controversy here is due to misinformation of people. So I would like to explain it to people.

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Coz Women, You are Wonderful

Coz Women, You are Wonderful

You are the dreams of the heart

You are someone's hidden art

You are giggles of a child

You are peace for the wild

You are courage of the coward

You take the left behind to forward

You are sunrise to the night

You can make others future bright

You are hope of the despair

You are the one who sacrifice her share

You are the rain for the draught

For the drowning you are the boat

You are the healer of the wound

You are the music for any sound

You are the smile for the grief

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Refuse

I was sleeping I know but I am awaken now
So I refuse to close my eyes again
You told me to take some futile vows
But I refuse to be the part of some gender game
You said I shouldn’t learn to be independent
But I refuse to lean on you for my trouble
You said there is not any way for my dreams
I say I refuse to be in the chain for my struggle

My passion my ambitions were ignored by you
So I refuse to care for your vintage customs
You barred me for the things I deserved
So I am here to gain my dignity and will blossom

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