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  • I Still Don't Remember

    Once there was this girl,

    I don't remember her name.

    But it doesn't really matter

    Coz, the story stays the same.

  • Praan Khola....

    Dekli toh kemon amder dekha...

    etaai to chilo hathe lekha...

    vule jacchis shei chottobela??????

    shei choudhury bajaar eaar shei mela....

  • I Worship Thee

    The first time I opened my eyes,

    You were there to care for me,

    I haven't said this much often,

    but mom, dad, I worship thee.

  • The Girl In The Orange Dress...

    Sitting there lost in her thoughts,

    With strands of hair kissing her face,

    There's so much more than meets the eye,

    About the girl in the orange dress.

  • Invictus

    Out of the night that covers me,

    Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

    I thank whatever gods may be

    For my unconquerable soul.

Main Bhi Nahi...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

Us mez pe, meri kuch aadhi likhi kavitaayein hain,
Shayaad unhein kabhi poora na kar sakoon...
Unmein jo alfaaz adhure reh gaye hain,
Ho sake, to unhe apne kuch bol, udhar de dena.

Tumse churaye hue kuch pal ab bhi hain yahaan,
Mehfooz hain, yaadon ki silvaton mein...
Inhe yun, khwaabon ke daayron mein hi rakhna,
Haqeeqat mein, inke ab koi maayne nahi.

Haan, woh almari mein kuch lafz rakhein hain,
Jinhe na kabhi tum bol paaye, na main...
Khamosh se hain, chup chap hi rehte hain,
Sunne ki koshish karna, shayad tumse bol padein.

Tumhari bheeni si khushboo reh gayi hai bas,
Aur door goonjti, tumhari hansi ki kilkariyan...
Inke alawa, is kamre mein,
tumhara aur kuch bhi nahi,
Main bhi nahi...

- Avra Sengupta
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Do You Remember?

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

Do you remember,
when we were waiting for the rain to stop...
And neither of us spoke a word to another,
In that cold, damp evening,
for the first time, I saw you...

Do you remember,
when you held my hand, and pulled us close...
I began to lose my self within yours,
And when every soul around me ceased to be,
once more, I saw you...

Do you remember,
when we danced without a care in the world...
The moon went about it's way, and so did the night,
And as the eternity slowly drew to a close,
yet again, I saw you...

Do you remember,
when you lost me, and I lost you...
How my uncertain eyes, seeked your unsure ones,
And in the strangers that stared back at each other,
for the last time, I saw you...

- Avra Sengupta
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Kheyali Mon

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

Ekti pataye ektu lekha,
Tor, aar amar, sheyi dekha...
Shobder bheede khujche ekhon,
Toke keno je, eyi kheyali mon...

Koto dur obdi dekh laaphaye,
Tor daak e shob chede palaye...
Atke rekhe achi aami anek khon,
Manche na tau, eyi kheyali mon...

Haath dhore tor, chaadte chaaye na..
Zid dhore boshe, kore baayna...
Bujhale o shey bujhena kokhon,
Abadho amar, eyi kheyali mon...

Ajoshro harano, shreeti jaante chaaye,
Bhulo mon ta keno, na bhulte paaye..
Doobe thake je, keno proti khon,
Tor kheyale, eyi kheyali mon...
- Avra Sengupta
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Lucky

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 4 comments

I was on my way to the pantry at our office, when I bumped into one of my friends who was also going the same way. We were both talking about the weekend, when my phone rang. It was my wife. The name "Lucky Mumbai" flashed on the screen. My friend giggled and asked, "What have you stored her number as?"

I showed him the screen, "Lucky Mumbai", it read. He was still giggling when he asked, "But why?". "Well, she hasn't changed her number when she moved to Bangalore last year, after our marriage. So it's still stored as Mumbai.", I explained. "But her name isn't 'Lucky'. Are you trying to subtly point that, she is lucky to be with you", he mocked. I smiled at his joke, shook my head and started wondering where to start the explanation from.

It was the first semester of my engineering. My college was a good 60kms away from my home, and so I used to stay in the college hostel. One evening when I was returning to my room, my phone rang. I used to have a LG phone those days, one with a small 1.5" screen. . It was an unknown number. "Must be one of the telemarketers", I thought. Looking at the number on screen, I was contemplating whether I should ignore it, or pick it up and give them an earful. I chose to do the later. I picked up the call, and before I could hurl some of the most choicest abuses, I heard the "Hello" from the other end. It was a girl.

"Hi!!", I managed to mutter. "Pehchana nahi", she giggled. A tug of war started inside me, between the fluttering heart which was already skipping a few beats and the ever so defensive brain, which had started drawing a list of suspects, behind what was obviously a prank.  "Ji nahi, nai pehchana!! Kaun bol rahe the aap", I sloppily said. "Kya yaar... School khatam ho gaya toh doston ko bhi bhul jaaoge kya". She is clearly flirting with me, my Sherlock of a brain thought. "This is Srabani", she said. It took me a few moments to register. "I got your number from Ipsita, thought would check up on you. But now it seems it was a waste. Tumhe toh main yaad bhi nai". In my defence, we had hardly ever spoken in school. I used to think she was way out of my league, and the only reason she knew I existed was because she used to sit next to my sister. To be actually talking to someone for whom you had once nursed a crush is unnerving in itself, let alone being caught off-guard.

"Arey yaad kyun nai hai. Bilkul yaad hai, woh toh yahaan network kharap rehta hai toh sunai nai deta theek se. How have you been". At this point in time, I had switched from being defensive to full on damage control mode. We spoke for about 20 odd minutes. It turned out, that she had taken the year off to prepare for her medical entrance examinations, and her days were mostly being spent in either coaching classes, or hogging street food, or sleeping. She said that she had gotten my number that afternoon, and she thought it would be fun to prank me. I remember standing on a piece of rock, right outside my hostel when I was speaking to her. I remember it because, ever since then, whenever I have spoken to her from that hostel, it has almost always been, while standing on that piece of rock. By the time I had hung up, I was already itching to text her.

Later that night, after a lot of retrospection I mustered up the courage to send her a text. Torn between wanting to text her and looking like a desperate loser, I zeroed in on one of the forwarded messages lying in my inbox. It took immense effort to press the send button.
.
"Sent"
.
.
"Delivered"
.
.
.
"Why wasn't she replying."
.
.
"Maybe she hasn't seen it yet."
.
"Oh come on!! It was sent ages ago. Of course she has seen it."
.
"She just thinks you are a los.."
"LOL" she had replied. I looked at that for quite a while, before sending her another text, asking her if she's had her dinner yet. That opened our first ever dialogue over sms. I told her about my college, my hostel life, my exam for which I hadn't started studying at all. We chatted for quite some time. After wishing her good-night, I kept the phone aside, opened the book and started thinking about her. A couple of hours of day dreaming later, I closed the book, switched off the lights, and went to bed. I spent the next hour in bed, re-reading our texts.

The next morning, I woke up just minutes before the exam, thanks to my roommate. I managed to get myself in the college uniform(yes, our college had uniforms), grabbed my belongings, and ran towards the college building. I reached the exam hall just in time. I kept my notes and my bag, outside the class, and was about to switch off my phone, when I saw it's screen flicker to life. "1 unread message from Srabani". I opened the message. "Best of luck. Call me after the exam.", it read. I switched off the phone, and entered the exam hall, with the most moronic grin possible, plastered across my face. I sat on my desk, totally oblivious to my surroundings. "She remembered...", that's all I could think of.

"Abey chal.." The roll number behind me barked. "Behra hai kya bey. Bola na usne, question papers print ho ke nai aaye hain. They are going to reschedule this paper at the end of this week. Ab chal." I followed the trail of my ecstatic classmates, out of the exam hall, out of the college building, and towards the college canteen. "Ek veg patties aur ek coke", I ordered and dailed her number. "Itni jaldi exam khatam ho gaya tumhara. Kuch bhi nai likha kya" she laughed. "Exam ho jaata aaj, to sahi mein kuch nai likhe paata. Padhai ki kahan thi maine. Woh toh shukar hai ke aaj ka paper cancel ho gaya.", I explained. "Wow!! Lucky you", she teased. "Indeed. Actually all credit goes to you. You wished me before the exam, and that seems to have bailed me out. I am pretty sure I would have flunked otherwise." I said with as much sincerity as I could. "Oh really!!", she faked surprise in the most adorable manner. "Now you can't let this gift go to waste. It is now your moral duty to wish me before every exam. You don't want me to fail do u. I would need all the luck I can get, and it turns out that you are lucky for me." By this time, we were both short of laughing out loud. "You know what, that's what I should call you from today, Lucky. Infact, right after this call, I am also going to save your name as 'Lucky' in my phone."

Oh, I was just flirting with her. I have never addressed her as 'Lucky', ever. But I did do something else. That day after hanging up, I went into the contact details of my phone, and changed her name from "Srabani" to "Lucky". It's been more than 10 years since I edited that contact in my phone.
Since then, we have fallen in love, finished our colleges, spent years apart living in different cities, fought often with each other, and ocassionally with the world. In this last decade, my phone has changed too, and so has her number. But through all of this, through all these years, she has always, without fail, continued to be, "Lucky" for me.
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I Dream of Jeannie

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

I grew up in a joint family, during my initial years. We had three tvs, one was a big color tv, that was in the living room of our house, an uncle of mine had another one, a tad bit smaller color tv, but with a remote, and my parents had a smaller black and white tv in our room, one that came with knobs. All three tv sets had one thing in common, they had only two channels that aired. That seemed to be enough back then.

Occasionally we would rent a vcr, and watch one of the recently released movies. Every Sunday morning we would all sit infront of the big color tv in the living room, and watch a few of those shows, that every Indian family used to watch on Sunday mornings. Mind you, the younger ones like us never had a say in what was to be seen, nor that it really registered to us.

In those days, when we used to have our summer holidays, it was always the same place we went to, my mom's hometown. Year after year, the same trip, two nights worth of train journey, followed by atleast ten days of the most amazing time with cousins from my mother's side, who like me used to come down there every summer for their vacations. There too the story was same, a couple of black and white tv sets, with knobs, and the same two channels. But the place had an upside, it had a cinema right next to it. And me and an elder cousin sister of mine used to have free access to last row seats now n then, courtesy of the usher to whom we were like nieces and nephews.

One such summer, we left my home town, and kicked off the vacation on a familiar note - two nights of train journey, followed by a 3 hour long car drive, to my mom's native. There used to be these vast mango troves outside my mom's native, through which the car took us and finally dropped us in front of the house. This time too I was greeted with the same black and white tv with knobs, but there was something different about it. It didn't just air those two channels anymore. My uncle had installed something called 'a cable connection'. It was like this treasure box of channels, all i had to do was turn the knob and the picture on the screen fluttered to something else entirely. No more static hissing, no more day long boring programs, no more of those two channels. There were channels that played music all day long, channels that  kept playing movies one after the other, channels with just cartoons in them!!!

That summer, we hardly ever went to the cinema next door. The mango troves outside the house remained unexplored. The early morning ritual of visiting the market with my uncle became a rare occurrence. We were glued to the tv for as long as I can remember. Amidst all these new shows, I Dream of Jeannie, was my favourite. It simply cracked me up. I remember it used to come at 9 in the morning and was repeated at 7:30 in the evening and I made sure to catch it both times. My cousins meanwhile, used to go gaga over these early versions of reality shows that were just on the cusp of their infancy. It was a summer love affair for us, with these channels, with this new way of tv, and of course for me, with Jeannie. The whole vacation passed in the blink of an eye, and before we could register, it was already the day before, I was supposed to leave.

Memory is a strange thing, isn't it. There are certain times in our life that stay imprinted in our conciousness, even though they might not seem so significant. I remember the last day of the vacation so vividly, that I can still close my eyes and be there again. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the tv, and I Dream of Jeannie was on. I was engrossed in it, but I wasn't quite enjoying it that day. The blues of leaving that night had already started haunting me. My dad was on the landline next to the table, talking to his brother, sharing the train details of our departure. He then asked me to take the phone, it was one of my elder cousins who wanted to talk to me. I dragged myself to the phone and placed the receiver next to my ear.

My elder cousin sister was on the other end of the line and she was exhilarated.
"Guess what happened while you were gone", she squeaked. "What did happen", my slow monotonous voice droned. "You won't believe it. We have gotten something called skyview two days back, it's a cable connection. They are giving out 99 channels, Sony, Zee, Cartoon Network and so much more. We can also call them and request them to play a movie and they will. We don't even have to rent a vcr for that now. And there's this show that we all watch every Sunday morning now. It's on Sony. You will love it. It's called 'I Dream of Jeanie.'". I was listening to her voice, with this ear to ear grin pasted on my face, while i overlooked the tv, just when Jeannie in her signature style folded her hands, and winked.
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Are you sure...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

You know those rare times, when you are aware that you have to get up and move, and you only have a few moments to be in the state you are in. And you are in this awareness zone in those few fleeting moments, fully conscious of the fact that time is passing away. Well, I am right now in one of those moments. 

I am lying here, in conflict with myself, listening to the lull hymns of nothingness around me, wondering about what is real.

Did I really see what I think I saw? Could it be possible! Or was it a dream? And how long have I been lying here. I am pretty sure it was a nightmare, just had a bad dream. I am chickening out, nothing else. I should clear my head. I should focus.

"Are you sure it's not real!!!"

I don't know what is more unsettling. The crackling coldness of the silence around me being shattered by this high pitched voice or the fact that this voice seems to be coming from inside me.

I need to stay calm. It's all in my head. Here I am in my own house, in my own bed. There's nothing out there. I have this portrait of God hanging above my head. I look at it intently and try to gather some courage. I keep looking at it, and slowly it dawns upon me, that my God is within me too and as long as He resonates from my being, I am safe. 

"Do you really think so? If you have so much faith in Him, why don't you come out for a little stroll and we shall see if you are really safe"

This time I am sure the voice was coming from inside my head. The same high pitched crackle, leaving me shivering with cold sweat. Against my best judgement, I finally got up from the bed and started walking towards the verandah. There's a glass window next to the door of the verandah through which I peeked. Pitch black darkness, not a sound, absolute void. I slowly opened the door and before i could step out, a blast of cold air hit me.

With every strand of hair in my body standing, I started praying in my head and stepped out. The verandah was huge, so there was quite a bit of ground to cover. With slow unsure steps, I moved till the edge and turned around. I could see everything from here, my eyes accustomed to the darkness by now. 

The entire verandah was empty, there was no breeze, as if someone had sucked all the air out of the place and yet i could feel the chill in the air, piercing through me. The door stood open as I had left it, with the vast silent verandah spread in-between. Never before had the night seemed so still. I shook my head and started walking back in. After a few steps i stopped, somewhere halfway between the edge and the door. I had this phantom feeling that something moved behind me. I slowly turned at that spot towards the edge and even before I could register what I saw, I found myself in my bed.

Did I really see what I think I saw? Could it be possible! Or was it a dream? And how long have I been lying here. I am pretty sure it was a nightmare, just had a bad dream. I am chickening out, nothing else. I should clear my head. I should focus.

"Are you sure it's not real!!!"

- Avra Sengupta
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Tum Aur Main...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 5 comments

Umar bhar ki hai ye jo kahaani tumhari,
Ek aadh panno mein iske, kahin main bhi hoon...
Saath tumhare chahe hoon na khada main,
Parchaiyon mein tumhari, kahin main bhi hoon...

Fursat jo mil paati kisi lamhe ko wo kehta,
Kharcha hai yun, use aaj bhi tujh hi pe..
Laut aane ka vaada, jo waqt kabhi nibhata,
Yaadein banata phir, saath mein tujh hi ke...

Beete hue palon ki bheed mein jo khoya,
Un gumshuda hazaron mein, kahin main bhi hoon...
Muskano se tumhare, bhale lapata hoon
Tanhaiyon mein tumhari, kahin main bhi hoon...

Zamana beet chuka, zamane ki parwah kiye hue,
Phir bhi fiqr mein tumhari, main aaj bhi kyun hoon...
Na manzil hoon tumhara, na hi hoon humsafar,
Phir bhi raah tumhari dekhta, main aaj bhi kyun hoon...
- Avra Sengupta

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Somewhere...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 2 comments

Can we meet somewhere?
Somewhere outside..
Outside me and you.

Somewhere within all the years we lost,
Or may be within a moment we had.
Where reasons won't be needed,
And reality would be obscure..

Some place without definition,
With blurred boundaries..
Where you wouldn't have ended,
And I would have already begun.

Regrets wouldn't be there as well
Somewhere outside time too
Where I wouldn't be searching for me,
But somehow I would be finding you.

Some place we can always go back..
Some place, where someday,
I wouldn't have to ask..

"Can we meet somewhere?
Somewhere outside..
Outside me and you"
- Avra Sengupta

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The Yellow Lamp Posts

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

If you close your eyes and reflect upon the moments that have defined your journey up till this very second. What is it that you remember? Think hard. What stands out? Do you remember the first time you fell from a cycle, or do you remember the first time you were able to ride it on your own. Do you remember the numerous failed interviews, or do you remember the moment you recieved your first paycheck. Is it the moment you lost someone, that stands out, or is it the times that you shared with that person? Does the missed promotion feature in there, or is it the first time you bought something for your mom or dad. Funny, isn't it, how our minds work. The things that bother us and the things we remember. 

About four years back in 2010, I left my home to start on my first job. These four years haven't been a smooth ride, and like everyone else I've had my ups and downs. There have been times when I have felt that I can conquer the world, and there also have been times when I have been without hope. I have been clueless and I have also been determined. At times I have been miserable, while at some been at peace. In these four years I have also changed my residence, quite a few times. But almost every place I have lived in, there has always been one thing in common. A yellow lamp post, out on the street visible from the balcony.

Over these years whenever I have been brought down by something or the other, I have almost always found myself deep in thoughts, standing at the balcony, staring at the yellow lamp post across the street. The streets have changed over the years, and so have the lamp posts, but the routine still remains the same. I am not sure if that helps me somehow, but I end up doing it nonetheless. Today when I try to recollect the numerous times that I have done this, the only things I do remember are the lamp posts. Neither the reasons that kept me awake, nor the apprehensions of those moments, but just the yellow lamp posts.

I wonder, if the reasons really were that important, and if they were, then why don't I remember them at all. Has the gravity of those reasons diminished with time, and if so then why did they seem so significant back then. I don't think I have all the answers with me, and I also don't think that this realization will make me immune, to whatever it is that the years to come will throw at me. There will always be something that is going to bring me back to that balcony, in the dead of the night, but one thing that I know for sure is no matter how bad things are, no matter how hopeless they seem, this time around when I stand there and stare at the yellow lamp post across the street, I will know that things are gonna be fine.

- Avra Sengupta
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Ummedein..

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 4 comments


Khule aasmanon ki khwahishein samete...
Pankhon ko failaye, ud chala hoon main..
Kuch dhundli si manzilen hain haasil karni
Dhoondhta unhe, kho chala hoon main..

Tedhe medhe se pathreele hain raaste,
Nange pair inpe chal pada hoon main
Ankahe lafzon ke sannaton mein goonjti,
Awaaz apni hi, sun ne chala hoon main.

Toota bhi hoon, main haara bhi hoon
Khud ko sambhalta chala hoon main,
Guzarte hue lamhon se aankhein churate,
Apni pehchaan sambhale chala hoon main.

Chalte hue kaafi door nikal aaya hoon,
Palat ke ye dekhna chahta hoon main...
Kya koi aur bhi hai, mere saath chal diya
Ya yun akela hi chalta, ja raha hoon main.

- Avra Sengupta
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A Memory...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 2 comments


A cup of coffee, a few pages to read,
A long walk with some thoughts to feed...
The rainy school days, the openfair nights,
The windy afternoons filled with kites...

An evening with friends, some old stories told,
Some old parchments, in some forgotten folds...
That familiar road, now a stranger to you,
Still finding in there, old faces few...

Some questions unasked, and their answers untold,
Some smiles bartered, some remain unsold...
A pensieve of memories buried deep within me,
Some make me cry, others fill me with glee...

In the cacophony of time, a few melodies drowned,
Some lost forever, some waiting to be found...
Within the confines of my clenched fists I see,
I am holding on to nothing... nothing but a memory.

- Avra Sengupta
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The Girl In The Orange Dress...

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments


Sitting there lost in her thoughts,
With strands of hair kissing her face,
There's so much more than meets the eye,
About the girl in the orange dress.

Carrying a million queries in those eyes,
With her earring's melancholy chime,
Wandering around in her own dreams,
She's caught in a moment lost in time.

A hint of smile is on her lips,
Reminiscing about evenings passed,
Trying her best to hold on to...
Blurry images of a forgotten past.

There will be times when she will hide,
Deep within a lady's grace,
But look closely and you shall find,
The girl in the orange dress.

- Avra Sengupta

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Praan Khola....

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments


Dekli toh kemon amder dekha...
etaai to chilo hathe lekha...
vule jacchis shei chottobela??????
shei choudhury bajaar eaar shei mela....

"ha re" mone ache "tor" shei bodmaishi???
dekhei ami dtaam muchke haashi.....:)
shei amder dushthumir shondha...
mone chilona kono rokom dwidha....
maar o boddho "tui" khetish !!!
taao jekhane ami shekhaane "tui"  jetish !!!

ki re"kakimoni k bolbo naki"..
ajob"tor" shoytani!!!!
keno nicchis shob amar jinish?????
"jaani jaani" shob e tui diechis!!:))

"thaak thaak" tor kadar natok....'
kintu laagchish tui "awesum aar byapok"
amon kanna dekhini babu!!!
accha ne"bollam sorry" kor ebaar tor kanna kaabu!

accha chol kheli "kumir danga"
ore ore dekh ,dekhe dara"pathor taa je bhanga"
kintu dujon ki aar khelbo bolto????:(
.......jai hok.....amra dujon akai aksho:))

chol chol badi jai porte boshte hobe....
haa re rabibar abar kobe ashbe????
abar kal theke "D.A.V" aar "Stewart"....
bhaablei,"it makes me hurt"
.............................................................
Ki chilo shei din...
bhulbona shei amader boka boka"scene"
dekha hobe je tor sathe "chilo akti chotto asha"
kintu aj aar nei shei chotobalar "alto bhasha"~~

-- Sookannya

Earlier this month I went to my sister's wedding. There I met my oldest and most dearest friend... Anne (Sookannya Sengupta), after 16 years. Anne and I have known each other ever since we were old enough to know what friendship is, and what friends are. To find someone, so close, after so long, is a feeling that's beyond words. For me it's like getting my entire childhood back. She wrote this awesome poem for me. I guess no one can relate to this as much as we both can.  But as she so rightly puts ".......jai hok.....amra dujon akai aksho:)"

--Bubai

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I Still Don't Remember

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 2 comments


BASED ON A TRUE INCIDENT

Once there was this girl,
I don't remember her name.
But it doesn't really matter
Coz, the story stays the same.

In front of our school she'd wait,
for her little brother everyday.
Up from their classroom windows,
would peek the boys of XII-A.

That day her rickshaw had parked,
right beside our tall red fence.
Our view had been totally blocked,
by trees long and their leafs dense.

Right then our physics mam bellowed,
"Stand up whose assignments are pending?"
The entire class stood up in union,
She said "Very well, remain standing."

Standing on that bench we saw,
our view was no longer blocked.
We were back in business again,
we could see her as she walked.

"Those of you who can promise,
to complete it by the long break,
Can sit down in your places now"
Mam wore our smiles, as she said

Everyone sat, but the three of us,
Mam asked "Won't you three submit?"
"We realize our mistake", said we
"So right now we don't wanna sit".

The entire class was cheering us,
We too had worn shameless grins.
Mam then ignored us and murmured -
"Stupid hormones and crazy teens"

For the next twenty odd minutes,
We stood, and the class went on.
Standing with those two out there,
I guess a lifelong friendship begun.

Her rickshaw left and then we sat,
The three of us, not too weary.
Coz even then we three knew,
That it was legen-wait 4 it-dary.

I would give anything today,
To stand again on that last bench.
To be again in those carefree days,
To share a laugh with my friends.

That is where my tale ends,
It really never was about her.
So don't bother asking her name,
Coz, "I still don't remember".

- Avra Sengupta

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Invictus

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
- William Ernest Henley

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The Night Before Christmas

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T' was the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.


Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! On Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.


He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;


The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;


He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

- Clement Clarke Moore

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Quote Of The Day

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 3 comments

" To be nobody but yourself, in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle, which any human being can fight and never stop fighting."

~ E.E.Cummings

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Wake Up Sid - Movie Review

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 1 comments

Directed By: Ayan Mukherjee
Starring: Ranbir Kapoor, Konkona Sen Sharma, Anupam Kher, Supriya Pathak, Rahul Khanna
Music Director: Shankar Ehsaan Loy, Amit Trivedi
My Rating: 3.5/5

It happens very rarely, that you watch only the first few minutes of a film, and you know you are in for a treat. That's what Wake Up Sid does to you. It presents characters you can identify with, and a story you can relate to instantly.

To begin with, though this is a Dharma Productions movie, you will not find a single Karan Johar element in it. There are no lavish sets, none of the songs have been shot at foreign locations and you won't find any bollywood superstars doing cameo roles. What you will find, however, is a beautiful film with a fresh feeling that stays with you even long after the movie is over. And the credit for it goes to debutant director Ayan Mukherjee, who proves with his first film that he is here to stay. He deals with the subject with such simplicity and sensitivity that, you don't even realise when you have started caring for the characters.

****SPOILER ALERT****
Wake Up Sid is the story of Siddharth Mehra (Ranbir Kapoor) or Sid who is as careless as a college going kid can get. He plays videogames, has got great friends, gets drunk with them, parties a lot and loves his camera so much he literally sleeps with it. On the night of his farewell he meets Aisha Banerjee (Konkona Sen Sharma) , an aspiring actress from Kolkata.

Sid and Aisha click instantly and become great friends, but soon all hell breaks loose when Sid fails in his final exams. He fights with his friends, storms out of his house and moves in with Aisha. Thats when the character of Sid starts developing.

The film is filled with beautiful scenes like when Sid is asked to take pictures of the next door kid, and he ends up realising how much his mother loves him. And the scene when he comes home to meet his mom.
************

The strong script is backed by a superb cast, each and everyone of whom have given an awesome performance. Konkona Sen is a natural and pulls off her scenes effortlessly. Anupam Kher and Supriya Pathak(kudos to her) give a remarkable performance as Sid's parents. Rahul Khanna does well in the small role. But the movie truly belongs to Ranbir Kapoor. He has yet again given a brilliant and flawless performance. Ranbir moulds into the character of Sid so beautifully that he makes the experience real and true for you. He is just three movies old and performs with such intensity you realize why he is being called "the future of the industry".

The songs are soulful and a treat for the ears. Shankar Ehsaan Loy have done a fabulous job. Check out the male version of the Iktara song by Amit Trivedi which is not included in the audio album. All in all a great movie. Its a must watch.



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I Worship Thee

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 1 comments

This is something i wrote for my parents. I haven't got a chance to show this to them yet, but pretty soon i will.

The first time I opened my eyes,
You were there to care for me,
I haven't said this much often,
but mom, dad, I worship thee.

In every scorching heat of life,
You have been my caring shade,
Your love is pure, your love is rare,
Your love is something i'll never trade.

If ever, i have broken your heart,
Please accept my apology,
I haven't said this much often,
but mom, dad, I worship thee.

Your love & care has made me,
the person that I am today,
you have given me so much to value,
in your debts I shall forever stay.

Keep loving me as you always have,
I beg this, I make this plea,
I haven't said this much often,
but mom, dad, I worship thee.

-Avra Sengupta

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Quote Of The Day

Posted by Avra Sengupta - - 0 comments

"Only the wisest and the stupidest of men never change."

-Confucius

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