It is very cold today in Bhopal. A cool chilly breeze flows in our corridors.
We were doing what is expected of us - Sleeping under the comfort of our blankets. Basu, my roomie, brought a movie to watch. Pather Panchali. 2 hour long. At first I wondered whether it would be endurable for the full time - after all, its a 2 hour long film of the 1950's, that too in bengali. After watching so many movies in the hostel room, we had lost one thing for sure - patience. We just couldn't watch something boring for long.
The movie started and we were lost in it. The emotions and the life of the village was so well captured, you just didn't want the film to end. It was a mesmerizing experience.
Last year I had read Pather Panchali - Song of the Little Road in english. Bibhutibhushan had an amazing power of flowering hope where there seems to be the dryness of despair. Let me brief you a bit of history behind the movie as well as its legendary director, Satyajit Ray.
Pather Panchali - the movie- was directed by Satyajit Ray. Ray had no prior experience of film making. He began collecting technicians and finally managed to coax Subrata Mitra into becoming the cinematographer and Bansi chandra gupta as art director.
The story deals with the life of Harihar Roy and the tragedies which befall him in his life. It was easy for Ray or maybe Bibhutibhushan to tell this as a tale of woe. What they do, in fact, is the opposite - They project it as a tale of hope- independent of the tragedies that befall them.
I think it is impossible to write or describe the emotions that envelop the each character - Apu, Durga, Thakurani, Sorbojoya and Harihar with their neighbours - a gem of a movie.
Make sure you dont miss this one.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
Age 9 - New School.
1996.
Class IV.
It introduced a new phase in my life. I was to join a new school - Kendriya Vidyalaya Maligaon. And my dear Ma was a teacher of that school.
When the announcement was made that I was to change school, I wasn't exactly sure whether I should be happy or sad... Leaving Disneyland High would be leaving all the friends I had, but it was, and is, always a good experience to explore new stuff. But all choices are not mine - I went to KVM anyhow.
I took full advantage of the fact I was going to the new school - I took a long break- a big holiday... because I stopped going to school after giving the admission test of KVM!
First day at KVM.
I was sitting in a small bench besides the Principal's chamber. There was a healthy (read fat!) guy near me - Little did I realize, we would be friends' of the first order.. ie.. forever. We had a chat - His name was Siddhartha. His mom was a teacher in KVM, just like mine. I had to join Class IV A... We both entered the class. There was a look of curiousity in everyone's eyes. I was surprised to see twins for the first time - Raktim and Pratim. I felt like a stranger.
There is a small incident I remember from that day. I wasn't sure how to put on the badge - the badge of Disneyland High was of a different mechanism. Some guys laughed at my clumsiness. I felt very odd. Then a guy, Biswajit Bhadra, came forward to help me out. I still remember the "grateful-ness" I had felt for him. The next day, I was transferred to Section B.
KVM brought a new angle to life. It was the first time I sang the National Anthem with so many students. After all these years, I realize that maybe the power behind that chorus of young voices booming in my ears sowed a small seed of love for my country.
What happened in class IV B - well, that is for my next post.
My brother told me something important when I first went to KVM. "Rohit, when you go inside this new school- u'll be known as 'madam ka beta'...I asked.."So ?"... He replied "Make sure that when you come out of school, Mom should be known as 'Rohit's Ma'.. The gravity and depth of what he said still rings in my heart.
Those words were the inspiration for me throughout my school days. It gave me an aim, a direction. When I think of it now, I realize that those words were diamonds for me. Inspiration, after all, are like diamonds - They are forever.
As I write these lines, I feel overwhelmed about how much I can derive from writing about my past.
My best friend reminds me that when we learn from our past, future takes care of itself.
What do you think?
Class IV.
It introduced a new phase in my life. I was to join a new school - Kendriya Vidyalaya Maligaon. And my dear Ma was a teacher of that school.
When the announcement was made that I was to change school, I wasn't exactly sure whether I should be happy or sad... Leaving Disneyland High would be leaving all the friends I had, but it was, and is, always a good experience to explore new stuff. But all choices are not mine - I went to KVM anyhow.
I took full advantage of the fact I was going to the new school - I took a long break- a big holiday... because I stopped going to school after giving the admission test of KVM!
First day at KVM.
I was sitting in a small bench besides the Principal's chamber. There was a healthy (read fat!) guy near me - Little did I realize, we would be friends' of the first order.. ie.. forever. We had a chat - His name was Siddhartha. His mom was a teacher in KVM, just like mine. I had to join Class IV A... We both entered the class. There was a look of curiousity in everyone's eyes. I was surprised to see twins for the first time - Raktim and Pratim. I felt like a stranger.
There is a small incident I remember from that day. I wasn't sure how to put on the badge - the badge of Disneyland High was of a different mechanism. Some guys laughed at my clumsiness. I felt very odd. Then a guy, Biswajit Bhadra, came forward to help me out. I still remember the "grateful-ness" I had felt for him. The next day, I was transferred to Section B.
KVM brought a new angle to life. It was the first time I sang the National Anthem with so many students. After all these years, I realize that maybe the power behind that chorus of young voices booming in my ears sowed a small seed of love for my country.
What happened in class IV B - well, that is for my next post.
My brother told me something important when I first went to KVM. "Rohit, when you go inside this new school- u'll be known as 'madam ka beta'...I asked.."So ?"... He replied "Make sure that when you come out of school, Mom should be known as 'Rohit's Ma'.. The gravity and depth of what he said still rings in my heart.
Those words were the inspiration for me throughout my school days. It gave me an aim, a direction. When I think of it now, I realize that those words were diamonds for me. Inspiration, after all, are like diamonds - They are forever.
As I write these lines, I feel overwhelmed about how much I can derive from writing about my past.
My best friend reminds me that when we learn from our past, future takes care of itself.
What do you think?
Friday, February 1, 2008
Age 8 - Ghosts
Ghosts.
I believe, there is a thin line between the normal and the paranormal. From my young days, I have been always intrigued by the subject of ghosts and spirits. My uncle is partly responsible for lighting that little lamp in my heart - of the uncertainty that surrounds this mysterious topic.
Let me begin with what is considered to be the shortest ghost story. Whether it is fact or fiction - its just for you to decide.
Two men were talking to each other sitting on either side of a bench during a break from the morning walk in a park. Being on the opposite sides of the bench, they couldn't see each other. What started as a general conversation of the weather turned its course towards the paranormal. One of them asked the other "Do You Believe in Ghosts"?? The other guffawed - "No". He turned around to see there was no one in the bench.
I was very afraid of Ghosts. I wasn't sure about why I was afraid but still....
It was a dark night. The lights were gone and the moon was out of sight. I took up the challenge to bring bread from a nearby shop. This was to prove that I was big now - I wasn't afraid of ghosts. I got out of home muttering prayers under my breath. I decided to go quickly to the shop and get back as soon as possible. The shop was a mere 200 metres from my home still it seemed like miles away. On the way, I looked behind - on hearing footsteps. I could see a tall figure following me. I gathered up my courage and moved on. It must be a normal person - I decided.
I bought the bread and started on my way back. Halfway down the track, I could hear footsteps once again. I turned around. The same fellow was still behind me. A shiver ran down my spine - It was all over I thought.... And ran. Ran like hell. My footsteps stumbled on a pebble and I fell - flat of my face. Blood gushed out from the lips and palms. The "thing" moved nearer. Suddenly the power came back on. Light showed on the face of the man.
It was my brother.
Ma had sent him behind me just to see if I could manage on my own or not. My brother carried me back.... I silently wept, not because my hands were cut - but because I had failed. Miserably. I had become afraid.
Though I laugh at myself when I remember this incident, still the fear that groped my heart during that "olympics" run, still tintillates me.
Fear is due to ignorance, due to the unseen.
I will be posting paranormal stuff once in a while in this blog.
If you have any incident like this, do share it with me through comments and email.
I believe, there is a thin line between the normal and the paranormal. From my young days, I have been always intrigued by the subject of ghosts and spirits. My uncle is partly responsible for lighting that little lamp in my heart - of the uncertainty that surrounds this mysterious topic.
Let me begin with what is considered to be the shortest ghost story. Whether it is fact or fiction - its just for you to decide.
Two men were talking to each other sitting on either side of a bench during a break from the morning walk in a park. Being on the opposite sides of the bench, they couldn't see each other. What started as a general conversation of the weather turned its course towards the paranormal. One of them asked the other "Do You Believe in Ghosts"?? The other guffawed - "No". He turned around to see there was no one in the bench.
I was very afraid of Ghosts. I wasn't sure about why I was afraid but still....
It was a dark night. The lights were gone and the moon was out of sight. I took up the challenge to bring bread from a nearby shop. This was to prove that I was big now - I wasn't afraid of ghosts. I got out of home muttering prayers under my breath. I decided to go quickly to the shop and get back as soon as possible. The shop was a mere 200 metres from my home still it seemed like miles away. On the way, I looked behind - on hearing footsteps. I could see a tall figure following me. I gathered up my courage and moved on. It must be a normal person - I decided.
I bought the bread and started on my way back. Halfway down the track, I could hear footsteps once again. I turned around. The same fellow was still behind me. A shiver ran down my spine - It was all over I thought.... And ran. Ran like hell. My footsteps stumbled on a pebble and I fell - flat of my face. Blood gushed out from the lips and palms. The "thing" moved nearer. Suddenly the power came back on. Light showed on the face of the man.
It was my brother.
Ma had sent him behind me just to see if I could manage on my own or not. My brother carried me back.... I silently wept, not because my hands were cut - but because I had failed. Miserably. I had become afraid.
Though I laugh at myself when I remember this incident, still the fear that groped my heart during that "olympics" run, still tintillates me.
Fear is due to ignorance, due to the unseen.
I will be posting paranormal stuff once in a while in this blog.
If you have any incident like this, do share it with me through comments and email.
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