Time of fantasy.

“Hey P, turn around, jerk! You are messing up the frame.” Cried my friend from behind .I turned around... “Smile!” the small 5megapixel phone camera clicked. “Done?” I asked irritably. Aashish ran to him to see the picture he has just taken, I remained where I was and turned back around. We were at the Jethi it was our refreshment day at school so we decided to roam about a bit before we go home. I thought it was more to do there than to just click pictures for face book. My eyes came back to the man sitting with his legs folded at the furthest corner of the Jethi …his face was turned towards the Ganges so I couldn’t see it. With him was his young one too small to sense his surrounding & understand the harshness of life. I came and stood near them but didn’t talk much so that I might not disturb them…the parent was describing the scenario that lay ahead. The child gave his reply in his own childish language which explains his importance .His words gave a glimpse of the unknown fantasies which a child imagines to venture, without knowing the way but just the certainty that it have to be done anyhow…. This idea manifests in his brain until he gets the idea that his dreams are too imaginative and are not worthy of fulfilling and there are other things to do in life than to just to turn faint imaginations into reality. These faint dreams become memories and the wish of being a pirate and sail away gets lost. The child becomes older and realizes that life is just a speeding ball and one have to hit it hard at the right time, at the right speed to make a six! Or else you are out… the parent who has heard the boy’s dreams remembers them but keeps quite as he thinks remembering those memories will only divert his son form his aim. He finds out that the only way to live life is to go with it…though it can break your hands or legs. He realizes that there is no happiness, no grief, no pain only the race and the will to win it and make it big in life. The library just turns into place to get free reference books! Then if he hits the pole and life becomes unbearable… and he finds a dead-end he switches off the fan…and ties the knot to his neck... and unties the knots with life…       

“Who’s that!? “The friend asked,

“Nobody…” I answered with a smile on my face.

Blogger's note: The picture given(insert) is the real picture I took that day on the Jethi. 
Thanks for reading. 
                                                                                                                                    P.p~

The still rocking 'bhadur da'!

our old scl....we go there only in the sawarsti puja and in some of the following days!

my present school! isn't grandly old fashioned! :P

i actually never sat in this class!!

a small corridor of the great building!

A GLIMPSE OF LIFE.

Long ago I read a wonderful poem in which the poet tells us about glimpse of a flower he has in a train journey .This was described as the glimpse of heaven. I don’t remember the lines or poet but the subject matter has left a deep mark in my life. We get so busy in our life that we forget many small &beautiful details of our short life. It’s like a song. Until you listen with utmost concentration you can’t get the lyrics and the instruments playing with it. I try to observe as much as much my life lets me. I find the most intriguing observation in gazing the world through the train window. We always have something new, to see, to observe out of that thin glass sheet…but the people on the other side are on their daily routine…who might have got accustomed or even bored with the daily passing of the train and may have stopped their observations as they don’t find anything new about it. We see different people from different places, whom we have never seen in our life & probably will not see any more. We imagine what it would be like to get in the big factories, climb on those stairs to the high chimneys…look to life from up above. To gaze, and let someone else care about the destination. Feel the wind about your face and plug your earphones in and don’t care about your hairstyle to mess up. The absurd shapes of flowers with unknown hues, which seems to have their origins in wonderlands, the green bamboo forests with its diagonal leaves spread all around the wet soil. The narrow strips in the middle of young seed beds for the highland lass to cross…or simple rhythm of train accustomed to reach its destination on time. Then again the speedy train halts and we take our bags and rush out of train and again in to our busy lives. Again forgetting what we acquired and in a corner of the heart waits the wish to be on the train and reconquer  it !                                                                                                                                                       

                                                                                                                                                     P.p.

 

On the starting of the strand road, opposite to SJC (Saint joseph's convent ) in the park the benches (picture above)contain carving, or just first letters of names & heart sings! well its not a new thing for many (which includes me) but i thought of telling you guys !  
                                                                                    pp 

life     

.Good-bye Chandenagare.

My dad welcomed me with a rough voice as I entered the house. Ato dari holo kano! Janis na train ta miss hoye jabe to(why are you so late! We are going to miss the train...). We were going to grandpa’s house that day. Since the death of my grandma’s death, a year ago we call it only grandpa’s house…..everybody calls their grandparent‘s house as mamarbari (uncle’s house) in Bengali. We (me and my bro) thought about that for some time and decided to call it dadur bari (grandpa’s house) as we didn’t have any maternal uncle!! Okay back to present time …me and my dad exchanged some hard words then drank our morning tea and go up to dress. My dad got out of the house first to the nearest auto rickshaw stand to catch a rickshaw to the station. Then I and my mom came out. During that time I remembered doing something very silly that morning …I posted on facebook that I will go to my grandpa’s house for 1&1/2 days ! But I’m writing the post as if I’m going for a week or so…! I also posted a link of a song & wrote above it “this is my last song for 2 days!”!!!How silly I’m…but I guess life is full of sillyness or else we wouldn’t enjoy it as we do, and in facebook that silliness is sometimes acknowledged .Other than that I talked with a friend who was going to dinner with her hubby. I shared some links and then said the goodbyes and went offline. I remember there was a thick fog, which have faded now, but is still dense and moist in my thoughts. I wish my bro can be with me that day but he can’t because of his exam … I get bored without him present. I don’t know what to expect for the following days. Perhaps a happy grandpa and an even happier little bro! Well life is lonely if only you think it in that way. We boarded an auto rickshaw and went towards the station. I cannot explain my emotion at that point of time …. I was feeling happy for I was going to my grandpa’s house but also sad for leaving my town. The roads were covered with dense fog. The bright lights of cars cutting their way through the moist clouds. In my heart echoed – goodbye Chandenagare ; goodbye my town!

                                                                                                                         P.P

Blogger’s note: This passage was written during the train journey to my grandpa’s.

                                                                        

Hey guys sorry about not giving any posts these days! My net was wrecked so I couldn't & I have exams now so you guys have to wait till 9th December! sorry...
                                                                                                
                                                                    Prithwish.