Zubin Garg has won the Global Indian Film Awards for the category of best singer (male). He beat Sonu Nigam, Shan, Kailash Kher, Sukhvinder Singh and one Pakistani singer who is over-hyped. Let's congratulate him and wish that he sweeps all the wards this year.

Zubin, you rock.

I donā€™t know when and how I befriended this bespectacled creature, but obviously I was not protecting him the occasional summer winds. He still needs protection from any kind of winds as there is always a risk of being blown away. But itā€™s not intentional on the part of wind as itā€™s very difficult to figure out something which has hardly any volume. I guess he used to cling to me as I was noticeable from miles apart. Now, please donā€™t jump to this conclusion that I am one of those guys in your office or college who walks away with all the attention of the opposite sex. (Kids in school, please excuse. Itā€™s not time to think of attention. Grow hair first.) But eyeballs roll whenever Iā€™m around and itā€™s irrespective of sexual preferences. After all size does matter, it may be pleasant (read bliss) or a big pain (you know where!).

Despite these eye-catching contradictions in volume, we seemed inseparable. At least, in movie halls and outside college campus. We were intelligent enough to understand that we had no bright future in matters related creatures that used to excite us with the explicitly visible extra flesh on a particular zone of their bodies. (I still wonder why the same amount of flesh, if grown a little lower, turns so repulsive.)  So we never got close to these mysterious elements and preferred to observe them from a safe distance. And this distance paid off! We were eternally ecstatic!

After more than a decade we realise how foolish it was on our part to keep aside that wisdom of our youth and let ourselves carried away by these fleshy creatures. Now for all those uninitiated I describe this situation a la advertisements of weight-loss centres.

Before: We laughed together

After: We cry together

Moral of the story: Beware of these fleshy creatures

Though I have not experienced it myself, I can very well understand the trauma of being labelled as an unemployed youth. In fact, it sounds an oxymoron to me as thereā€™s no youthfulness left in unemployment. I guess the great Lord has always been nice to me and you cannot argue with me when I say that despite being idle for most of my life, I have been suitably employed. Itā€™s always an achievement to get generously paid for almost doing nothing. And that has been my only achievement till date.

Now that you realise that Iā€™m left with no work, itā€™s obvious that I have mastered the art of keeping myself busy with issues, which is no oneā€™s business. For instance, I did a survey on those who do nothing a la me and sadly donā€™t get paid too. Amazingly 99.99 per cent of them get up late in the morning. You know why?

They have hijacked all the beautiful dreams in the world! Now you know why you often come up with the most horrible dreams that scare the hell out of you. Iā€™m planning to request the government to heavily tax these souls as itā€™s unfair that they are still hoping that the best is yet to come.

Unfortunately we have lost hope!

Thatā€™s the problem we have been facing for a while. We have exhausted all our dreams or lost them halfway on our mad rush towards something, which we are also not sure of. Where is the charm of an uncertain future? We almost know whatā€™ll happen to our lives tomorrow provided the good Lord doesnā€™t have any specific design for us.

Itā€™s time we jostle ourselves up from the cosy comforts of our jobs and get mad!

Ehshas me hai awarapan, jism me hai pagalpanā€¦yun hota to kya hota

When I first started blogging (does that word exist?) I was doing it for myself. Just to keep a record. But when people started asking me questions like ā€˜why are you not bloggingā€™ I was surprised (and flattered too!). It really amuses me that someone takes pain to read my gibberish. Iā€™m not saying out of modesty, but thereā€™s nothing very special about my life and I often write about myself. Anyway, this is a tricky situation as I have to be more careful while writing. Someone is watching!

The last time I wrote here was months back. Lots of things have changed in my life, in fact, some major changes. Everyday I get up and gulp down a pill which will be my constant companion till I breathe my last. Friends, here I declare that Iā€™ve been detected to be suffering from hyper-tension (very unlikely syndrome for me as I never take tension; how can I do that when I donā€™t think at all?), in clear words, high blood pressure. Initially it was 150/100, but now clearly under control at 120/80. After all, the pill is there!

However, it was an accidental discovery. I visited a doctor due to an abdominal pain, which was later found to be caused by a stone in my gall bladder. It was discovered on March 8 this year and I hurriedly flew back to Assam to get it out through surgery. There, doctors refused to operate me as they detected my blood pressure to be beyond normal limit. Since then Iā€™m on medicine and have been postponing my surgery as there is no pain now. Actually, Iā€™m scarred of surgery! My cousin says that the Ayurvedic medicine he has given me will flush out the stone. Next week Iā€™m going for an ultrasonography test and please pray to God that the doctor doesnā€™t find the stone inside me anymore.

Now the biggest news: I got married on April 30. It was a hilarious wedding where two cultures met, albeit with too much confusion. My wife is an architect from a Baniya family in Delhi. The reason why I mention her caste here would be better understood by anyone who knows how Baniyas are. Though my wife is very much unlike Baniya, her family members are true blue baniyas who celebrate too many festivals. So you can imagine how funny my wedding where both Assamese and Baniya rituals converged. It was held in Assam and my relatives were very much amused. They really had a blast. Till date we are a happy couple and hope to remain so! I believe God is with us and so are blessings of so many relatives. For the first time in my life I realized how much Iā€™m loved by my folks, not only my parents and sisters, but even by cousins and uncles. Hey, donā€™t worry, itā€™s not that sweet. I have a horrible khudi too and anyone who knows my family can guess who she is.

These days Iā€™m facing a serious identity crisis. Iā€™m unable to decide if Iā€™m an Assamese, a Jat or a Baniya. By the way, my landlord is a Jat and his family is my second home. So I have imbibed many of their traits and people in the locality I live in Delhi consider me to be one among them. Then come my in-laws. Initially they hated me, in fact, threatened to get me killed. It was not a blank threat as they are too powerful and rich and you know my can buy anything. But they later understood what a jewel Iā€™m and everything ended happily. In fact, Iā€™m their favourite son-in-law now and the kids ape me blindly. I feel like Iā€™m King Khan. And believe me; people here in Delhi treat their son-in-laws like Maharaja. So, say ā€˜Your Lordshipā€™ next time you encounter me. It has been three months since my marriage and I have lost count how many festivals my sasural has celebrated in these three months. You can gauge the situation when I tell you that DJ parties are thrown to celebrate birthdays and choreographers are booked in advance to teach dance steps. So, Iā€™m happily enjoying my three-in-one life-Assamese in a Jatland with a Baniya wife.

Another significant changed in my life: I joined India Today. When I was growing up, there was no cable and India Today was my window to the world. When I came to Delhi I had only one dream- to join India Today. Iā€™m immensely happy to fulfill my long cherished dream. And it happened immediately after my wedding. Now, thatā€™s called lady luck. However, I would always remain grateful to my previous boss for my entry to India Today. It was only because of him I could achieve what I wanted. Thanks boss! I love you.

Are you still reading? Not even yawning? Please see a shrink.

Hey folks! Still nursing the childhood desire to settle abroad? Please think again.

For your rotten India may not be the same ever. There will be a time when your expatriate kids will be trying hard to migrate to India to get the feel of living in the best country of the world. "Utter nonsense," you might say, but here is a secret I would love to share with you.

H.G. Wells knew about it long back, and I came to know about it the other day. With the help of the 'time machine', I peered into 2085 A.D. (Please do not ask me how, or else these Americans will patent it) and discovered my dearest Bharatvarsh (the name India would become obsolete by then) soaking in the glory of ten consecutive World Cup victory. No, no it was not cricket World Cup, it was soccer instead.

You think I'm crazy. You can very well think at your own peril. As I had very little time over there to understand the world of 2085, I scanned through some newspapers. I had a harrowing time searching for printed words. Only few copies of newspapers were published as heritage symbols. The future is in e-newspapers. Here are some samples of news from the Times of Bharatvarsh, November 18, 2085.

The Front Page

India today ordered the United States to solve its border dispute with Cuba immediately. In an SMS to the President of the United States, the Pradhan Mantri of India threatened him of psycho-chemi-bio attack if he fails to start peace talk with the neighboring country within a week.

India today donated three old nuclear submarines to England. The Griha Mantri of India said that it was a gift to the King on his birthday.

The Mukhya Senadhinayak of India today visited Indian's western border on the bank of Euphrates River.

The Rajyapal of Japan today dissolved the state assembly and requested the Rashtrapatiji to invoke Rastrapati's rule in the state. The Mukhyamantri of   Japan termed the action of Rajyapal as arbitrary.

Science and Technology Page

The Nobel laureate scientist Dr Dhaniram Bora has been invited by the 'University of Hoka Lola in the planet Mars to deliver a lecture on the scientific implications of Bharatnatyam.

The Pradhan Mantri of India today congratulated astronaut Rahul Sharma on his return from Uranus. While speaking to reporters Sharma said, "The people of Uranus expect friendly ties with Prithvivashi."

The science and technology minister today felicitated a 6th standard student from Bihar who made a watch, which can download virtual coffee. Ram Bhushan, the 12 years old kid says, 'I was inspired by five times Nobel winning Bihari scientist, Dr. Laloo Bhushan Prasad."

"As usual, this year also Bharatiyas swept away the Nobel prizes in every field. This year a special Nobel was given to Santa Singh for his extra ordinary intelligence. However, following the age old custom, the Nobel Prize for peace was reserved for the Indian Pradhan Mantri." (This was a small news item on page 6)

Sports Page

The whole country is celebrating its 10^th consecutive World Cup football victory. Immediately after the world cup win striker Laxman Pawar signed a contract with Unreal Bhopal club for an undisclosed amount. The team Bharatvarsh has decided not to take part in the next World Cup to give chance to other countries.

The Bharatiya Kabaddi team has left for Barcelona to participate in the Kabaddi World Cup. The captain of the team, Harjit Singh, says, "The team has got bored winning every time. Now we will concentrate upon increasing the victory margin."

Arnav Deka has reached the final of Wimbledon male section. If he wins the final, it will be his 15th Wimbledon title. In the female section, Smita Iyer has reached the final. She is vying for her l0th title here.

The best all rounder in the world, Sachin Dev Gavaskar, today retired from international cricket. He has 200 centuries (l00 in One- Day Internationals and 100 in tests) and 50,000 runs to his credit. He also captured 1,000 wickets. The government has declared national mourning for two days on his retirement. Three temples have already been dedicated to this great cricketer.

Entertainment Page

20 times Oscar winning mega-star Salman Oberoi has confirmed the report that he has signed a Jollywood (The film industry of planet Jupiter) movie. He is elated to be the first Prithvi actor to do a crossover movie.

Noted director Chand Chotajatya's action movie, "Hum aapke kuch kuchhoie hai" won this year's Oscar for best movie. Chotajatya won the best director award while the leading actor of the movie, Vivek Khan, bagged the best actor award. Known for her expressionless emotional performances, Kareena Dixit claimed the best actress award for the movie, 'Company of Bhoot on the Road'.

American movie "Noisy Silence" won the Oscar for best movie in the foreign language section.

Teen sensation Bharatnatyam dancer, Pratibha Saxena, and classical singer, Stephen Sangma, will perform live in Delhi's Pragati Maidan on December 25 this year. This is for the first time that they will perform together. All tickets have been sold out.

Business News Page

"The software company, Megasoft, today merged into the Bharatiya behemoth, Gananak. With Megasoft under his belt, Prabhat Hazarika, the owner of Gananak, once again consolidated his position as the richest man on Prithvi.

The automobile giant Kharuti launched its new economy segment car today. Named as 'Kheeeva', this small car will run on solar power. It has been priced at Rs1000. (For USA and European customers, it will cost $500,000 and $750,000. respectively)

Appointments Page

Famous Bharatiya economist, Dr. Saifuddin Ahmed, has been appointed as the Mahanirdeshak of the World Bank.

Off beat

The Pradhan Mantri of Bharatvarsh has sanctioned Rs 1, 00,000 for the development projects undertaken for the rehabilitation of Bengali and Maratha tribes.

And finallyā€¦

The irritating ring tone of my cell phone brought me back to the world of 2006. It was my editor harking at me for stories.

Hey guys, it's really nice to know that there are so many sensible individuals alive on earth. Please read the following artcle published on Rediff.com. It's written by Mahesh Peri, the president and publisher, Outlook magazine.

My heart goes out to Debojit

A couple of weeks back, I watched one of the episodes of Sa Re Ga Ma Pa on Zee TV. It made me sit up. Crass commercialisation, ignorance, lack of finesse, jingoism, cheap campaigns, isolation. You name it. It had it all.

A set of contestants was ganging up against a singer from the Northeast. A bunch of music directors was ganging up against a fellow director with greater credentials. The channel was peddling all this drama for television ratings.

The loser was India and Indianness.

Agreed, that Sa Re Ga Ma Pa is the best music programme on television. Agreed, that it has given the country the maximum number of playback singers. But then reality television hit the marquee. After Sony's Indian Idol, even the leader decided to follow. And how.

Consider this.

Sa Re Ga Ma is a programme where you can vote for your favourite singer. Caveat. You can vote as many times as you want. As long as money is not important to you; or it is balanced off by your relative/friend/son/daughter becoming the winner. It is rigging, allowed by the rules. I am sure most of our politicians would love that.

In each episode, the show announces the vote share of the contestants. Only that, in the case of Debojit, a contestant from Assam, they also disclosed the votes he got from the Northeast. It is a different matter that for other contestants, they disclosed the votes they received from places other than their hometowns, which didn't even add up to 30 per cent.

In Debojit's case, they announced the votes he got from the Northeast, say 75 per cent. No revelation was made about the votes Vinit got from Uttar Pradesh or Hemchandra got from Andhra Pradesh.

You also have three more characters. Himesh Reshamiya, Aadesh Srivatsava, and Ismail Darbar, an integral part of the drama that the director conceived of.

War of the music composers, literally

Himesh Reshamiya always keeps pleading the case of Vinit from his gharana so that he can get the girl he loves to say yes. Vinit is all of 17. His voice croaks, thanks to his age. Even stupid renditions of great songs by Vinit will see Himesh applauding, all for the cameras, you and me.

We all have to vote, because Vinit is in love. It's a different issue that others have decided not to fall in love at that age or talk about it in public.

In the episode aired on January 19, Zee as usual wanting to create some news, announced the vote share of Debojit from the Northeast. It was upwards of 70 per cent. The other three contestants decided to walk out as the voting had a strong regional basis. The Northeast comprises seven states and Aadesh Srivatsava compared Assam with the entire Northeast showing his ignorance.

There was a young lady who screamed, 'It cannot be Assam's voice, it has to be India's voice'. Young lady, why don't you blame the guys who voted for some dubious individuals to come to Parliament? And why didn't you vote many more times to take on the might of the seven states that are as integral a part of India as Maharashtra or Delhi are?

Can the three contestants say they got a lesser vote percentage if they add up the vote shares of the seven states that voted for them? And Himesh Reshamiya keeps shouting at the top of his voice, making illogical arguments, in his usual style.

All this, while Debojit is aghast, at his isolation by his very own fellow contestants. He cries, on his wife's shoulder. Ismail Darbar tries in vain, to put things in perspective. He is heard shouting, 'Kya Assam India me nahi hai kya?' And the director of the show jumps on the floor, with a mike in his hand and tries to argue. All this is supposed to be natural, impulsive.

The contest has turned into a battle between an upright Ismail Darbar, who understands music better than all the others on the show put together, and the rest. It has turned into a battle between one person from Assam and the rest.

Jarring notes in the Sa Re Ga Ma show

Two years ago, I saw the American Idol where the three best singers, being black were in the bottom three. It sparked off a huge debate in America. And the Black American felt he did not belong to the larger American Community. There, the judges cried. Here, our judges encouraged it.

The consequences are tragic. We would further alienate people from the Northeast -- that means all seven states. We will also further alienate Muslims. And all this drama on prime time television. All for television ratings. All to get noticed.

It is upsetting. My heart goes out to Debojit. To the Northeast. To the good singers. To Ismail Darbar. But I would not vote, as much as I don't give alms to beggars. The consequences are grave. Welcome to reality television.

I do not know how many of you follow talent hunt shows on TV. I sincerely followed the first Indian Idol, but there was a reason behind it. During that time I was going through a very bad phase and I used the drama of Indian Idol as an addictive. I used to soak myself in the anxiety of the participants and forget mine. I hate to think of my own problems and luckily I always come out of crunch situations very comfortably. Interestingly, I had predicted that Abhijit will become Indian Idol after the final eleven was declared and it came true. I always wanted the fall of Rahul Vaidya and it happened. I wish my predictions about myself also come true.

By the end of Indian Idol my fortune changed and I was again back to my happy-go-lucky days. Then came Fame Gurukool and I never had time and inclination to watch that show. However, media reports about Qazi intrigued me and watched some of the episodes of the show. I admit Qazi sings very bad, but I wanted him to win after I saw him first time. Though the other singers sang well, they were somehow taking them too seriously. On the other hand this Kashmiree guy was blunt and carefree. Besides I love Kashmiree people and you realize that my sisterā€™s name is Kashmiree.

I guess I watched one or two episodes of Fame Gurukool, but followed it on newspapers. Being a journalist I could not escape discussion on it in the office. Then came Sa Re Ga Ma 2005. I had not watched a single episode of this programme till I went home in the first week of January. I was amused to see the front pages of Assamese dailies flooded with the story of Debojit Saha, a Bengali guy from Assam. I was more intrigued when I saw AASU taking up the issue. We all know there has always been tension between Barak Valley and Brahmmaputra Valley. But one Debojit Saha erased everything. Today entire Assam is voting for Debojit in the show.

I understand the mechanics behind this reality shows and how they are manipulated. Even then Sa Re Ga Ma has done a great thing to Assam. For one Debojit we became united to fight against the other contestants from other parts of India. We did not care if he is Assamese or not. This is really inspiring. I know there may be vested interests like cell phone operators working behind it. But the fact remains that if needed we can stand united.

And see the power of unity. Debojit has again got maximum votes and beaten his nearest rival by 10 lakh votes. Itā€™s not Assam vs India; itā€™s unity vs diversity. Itā€™s the power of passion. For many it may be a too trivial issue to get united, but this can be a beginning. Letā€™s cash in on the goodwill generated by this funny but significant phenomenon.

Letā€™s stand united for a greater Assam, a better Assam.

Today I was reading about an article by one of my favourite Assamese writers and was really sad to understand his apprehensions about the future of Assamese and Assamese language.

Most of the talented Assamese youngsters who have come out of Assam have lost touch with their mothertounge. Even I have not read a single Assamese novel in last three years. Those who are still shaping their future in Assam, hardly care about reading anything Assamese. Forget those convent kids, even those who study in Assamese medium schools are not very keen about Assamese literature.

10 years later many of us will become parents. Will we be able to teach our kids anything Assamese? Will they be interested?

However, one Assamese thing still sells like anything in Assam- Assamese newspapers.

The way Hindi newspapers sell in Delhi, though I hardly seen anyone reading Hindi novels. And people watch Hindi movies and Hindi channels. In fact, non-Hindi speaking people like us have learnt Hindi from TV and movies only.

Can we repeat it Assam? Imagine if someone launches quality Assamese private channels showcasing Assam in a better way. Let them show saas bahu serials if that sells, but letā€™s sell it in Assamese. But, for godā€™s sake letā€™s not make documentary a la Doordarshan Kendra, Guwahati. People still read Assamese newspapers and they will watch Assamese channels and movies, one can offer quality product.

If Hindi can still be the medium of entertainment in India, Assamese can do the same in Assam. And soon convent kids will also talk about Lachitā€™s heroics a la Mangal Pandey.

By the way, how many bloggers here can read and write in Assamese?

The following is a mail I received on my inbox this morning. Please read it carefully and speak out as someone who loves Assam, and cares for her.

Hi All,
 
This morning's Sunday Express carried one full page on the nominations for this year's Star Screen Awards. It mentions Jahnu Barua as one of the nominees in the "Best Debut Director" category. It is either ignorance on the part of the Screen (which I don't believe is true as Screen is one of the leading film related publications in India) or just sheer and deliberate negation of all his work done in Assamese all these years. Also, "Maine Gandhi Ko..." is definitely not his debut film even in Hindi as Aparoopa, his debut film in 1982, was also made simultaneously in Hindi (not dubbed, but with a separate caste with Suhasini Mulay playing the lead in both versions). I have e-mailed Shekhar Gupta, group editor of Indian Express and also the Screen editor, voicing my objection to this nomination for obvious reasons. I have appended my mail below this mail, and request all group members to write to them on this at these two ids: sg@expressindia.com, editor@screenindia.com, or reach them through any other medium you know.
 
In fact, this nomination takes the cake, after Barua was described by some news channels as an Oriya and even a Korean director!
 
Utpal Borpujari
Chief Correspondent
Deccan Herald
New Delhi Bureau

This is the mail he wrote to Shekhar Gupta
 
Dear Mr Gupta and editor of Screen India,
 
I am a journalist who writes on films. Quite naturally, I follow the developments related to the film world - the whole world, and not only Hindi cinema - as best as I can to enhance my knowledge base about the subject that I am deeply interested in.
 
That is why I am being forced to write this mail after seeing the list of the nominations for this year's Star Screen Awards, which I consider to be one of the genuine awards amidst the variety of 'fixed' ones.
 
Your nomination for the Best Debut Director contains one name - that of Jahnu Barua, for his film "Maine Gandhi Ko Nahin Maara", which is one of the most significant films to have come out of India in 2005. But I simply don't understand from what angle have you chosen to nominate him in the Best Debut Director category. If you check back issues of Screen, you will come to know that Mr Barua has made nine films before this one, several among them having won top international and national awards. His 'Halodhiya Choraye Baodhan Khai (Catastophe)" had won the President's Swarna Kamal for the best feature film in 1987, "Hkhagoroloi Bohu Door (It's a Long Way to the Sea)" the Swarna Kamal for Best Director in 1996, "Firingoti (Spark)" the 2nd best film National award and the best actress award to Moloya Goswami, and so on.
 
I am from Assam, and I feel this nomination is an insult to all film lovers - not only those from Assam - as with one stroke it has negated all his work done in Assamese all these years, which have made him a great name in the Indian cinema globally. And even if you say that you have nominated him for his debut in Hindi, that too is wrong, as Mr Barua had made a simultaneous Hindi version of his first film "Aparoopa" (Assamese) in 1982, which was called "Apeksha" and had Suhasini Mulay, Girish Karnad, Faroukh Sheikh and Kulbhushan Kharbanda in the main roles. It was produced by NFDC and it is definitely not Mr Barua's fault that it was not given a proper theatrical release as is the habit with NFDC with nearly all its productions.
 
I request you to kindly correct this anomaly immediately. Mr Barua not only does not need to be bracketed with debutants, who are of course among the promising names in Indian cinema, especially after his films have won award in Chicago, Locarno, Bangkok, Fukuoka, Pusan and many other international film festivals, and especially after a retrospective of his films was organised to high acclaim several years ago in Europe.
 
I hope a great publication like Screen and a group like Express, which I intensely admire, would withdraw his name from this particular nomination and rectify the anomaly.
 
With regards,
Utpal Borpujari

Dear everybody,

Whosoever has written the comment, please come out in the open. Whenever you accuse me of anything, please show the evidence to the world. Besides have the guts to post your identity.

Babul da, I guess you should drop the facility to post comment annonymous.

Mr. Arhan Writwik or Mr. Kaushik Deka

You should not talk about murder of soul. You screwed lot of girls happiness by exploiting them. Now guess who am I ! Your fiancee, she should be ashamed of it. Dont know what type of girl she is must be your slut !

Regards

Arhan

Most of the hostel rooms in Cotton College are four-bed rooms, very few are three-bed and fewer are two-bed rooms. I did not see any single room in Cotton College, as I cannot be forced to call a box a room.

I was in a four-bed room and was the second oldest boarder among the four. Nayan da, who was two batches senior to me was doing mathematics honours course. Himangshu was in 12^th standard and Pranjal was in 11^th standard. Both Pranjal and me were newcomers to the room. Obviously, Nayan da and Himangshu got better space in the room. I never had any grudge for this because they were wonderful person.

Himngshu was always busy with studies and when he did not study would talk about his unseen girlfriend about who I used to make fun. Pranjal could be very funny one day and would turn serious the other day. I would coax him every night to sing my favourite Zubeen numbers and he would oblige happily.

Nayan da was a very fine person except that he was a modern poet and ask me what a torture it is to read or listen to modern poems.

After joining Cotton College I came under the impression that every second person is a poet and it was the easiest road to fame. My belief was further strengthened when a poem titled ā€œSagarika Bardoloi of Handique Girlsā€™ Collegeā€¦ā€ almost became college anthem and the poet Pranab Barman became a romantic hero. Even today I donā€™t understand the poem.

The College Week was approaching and the buzz was who will win the best poet contest this time- Pranab Barman or Pranjit Borah, another giant in the College. Far away from this literary hullabaloo, Himangsu, Pranjal and me were discussing ways to get rid of Nayan daā€™s poems.

ā€œJot down some tough words, names of some places and add a girl in blue saree, thatā€™s what modern poem is,ā€ Pranjal comes out with a theory.

ā€œIs that so easy? There must be some formula,ā€ Himangshu said. He always thinks that the whole universe runs on formulas and theories.

ā€œCome out of Physics Himangshu. Anyone can write a modern poem. Make sure that none understands it,ā€ I declared like an expert.

ā€œCan we write one?ā€ both asked together.

ā€œWhy not? Letā€™s start. Bring me a pen and some papers. Ready? So what would be the first line?ā€ I loved when someone look towards me for a solution.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and we all shouted together, ā€œNo.ā€

We did not want any disturbance in our creative exercise. But that knock gave us the first line of our poem: Someone knocked at my door last nightā€¦

One hour later we came up with a 20-line modern poem. We submitted that poem for the poetry competition under my name.

That year I won the best poet award.

Sadly, I still donā€™t know the meaning of the poem I wrote though I got another unwanted tag-poet. Exactly one week later I found myself installed as the president of Anubhav Gosthi-a literary organisation in the college.

The following post is not my own creation. But the author has expressed exactly the same words that I felt for Sourav Ganguly. No matter what the world thinks of you, you are one of best Indian cricketers and far better than our selectors who are actually jokers. How can a person like Kiran More judge the value of Dada? But that happens only in India.

"As everybody was celebrating India's thumping victory over Sri Lanka in the second Test on Wednesday, came the news of Sourav Ganguly being dropped from the team for the third Test.

The deposed India captain had just worked his way back into the Test team after being omitted for the one-day series against South Africa and Sri Lanka.

After a consistent all-round performance in domestic matches, coupled with improvement in fitness and fielding, it seemed that the left-hander had finally adjusted to the rigours of international cricket.

True, he failed in the first Test in Chennai, scoring just five on a difficult pitch, where no Indian batsman crossed 36, as the team was shot out for a lowly 167. But, then, in the second Test he showed tremendous application to notch scores of 40 and 39.

In the first innings, he was involved in an important 121-run fourth-wicket partnership with Sachin Tendulkar, the highest of the innings, while in the second, he compiled a solid 39, denying Sri Lanka an early wicket on the fourth day and avoiding a repeat of the first innings, when India was bundled out an hour after the start on the second morning.

It was also heartening to see him help out captain Rahul Dravid with the field placings.

Just a couple of days ago, coach Greg Chappell underlined Ganguly's contribution to the side, calling him a mentor.

In the past we have seen India captains, after being stripped of the responsibility, opting to field on the boundary lines and not having anything to do with the team or the new captain. But, as was evident in the just-concluded Test, Ganguly was always approachable, whether you were a teammate, journalist or cricket fan.

Surprisingly, all that did not catch the attention of the Indian selectors, who felt that, with the return of Virender Sehwag, there was no place for the Bengali, who led India to some of its best cricketing moments since the 1983 World Cup triumph.

Once quite rightly termed 'a bunch of jokers' by Mohinder Amarnath, the wise men lived up to that tag by recalling Mumbai opener Wasim Jaffer to the Test team.

As an opener for an opener, Jaffer, for the out-of-form Gautam Gambhir, would have been the right choice. But, by going the other way around, cricketing circles will call it a politically-inspired move, what with the base of Indian cricket having shifted to Mumbai.

One doesn't understand the logic in picking Jaffer. If Jaffer makes it to the team, then Gambhir has to be dropped. So what was the point retaining the Delhi batsman, who has scored just five runs in the three innings he batted in the series and fell to the same bowler (Chaminda Vaas) thrice?

This time, one wouldn't fault Bengali cricket fans if they come out again in support of Ganguly. Certainly, he doesn't deserve such humiliation after leading Indian cricket to dizzy heights.

Which begs the question: Is it the end of the road for Ganguly?

With the politics in Indian cricket showing no signs of ending, it would be a surprise if he ever makes it back again purely on the terms of cricketing merit and experience. No amount of runs in domestic cricket can guarantee his comeback to a team, filled with the notion of youth and future.

If the selectors are looking at the future then what explanation can they provide for a 32-year-old being given the charge of a team with two years still to go for the World Cup?

The doors had been firmly shut on Ganguly's entry to the one-day team. Today he was shunted out of the Test team too. The 'Please do not disturb' board has been put up front for the Bengali left-hander.

Ganguly has always challenged everything impossible. Victory in Australia always looked impossible till that brilliant 144 by him on a seaming pitch in Brisbane in 2003 showed our batsmen the way and set the tone for a memorable series.

So don't be surprised if you see him make yet another comeback -- despite the odds!

But if he doesn't, then we got to thank him for the wonderful memories he has provided over the years and salute him for being India's most successful captain ever."

Harish Kotian

There was a time when a Yash Chopra movie meant a soft but intense love story based in a picturesque locale. The heroine would be mostly clad in saris, especially when she dances and sings a song. The hero also used to have access to a colourful wardrobe. It was visually delightful and you would come out of the hall with a very nice and romantic feeling. Every time I watched a Yash Chopra movie, I used to believe life is so beautiful after all.

I donā€™t know what people think of Veer Zara, but I liked the movie though I would have preferred someone else instead of Preity Zinta. It had all the ingredients of a Yash Chopra movie with some superb songs. I like specially the Mein Yaha Hoonā€¦song. But, I like the movie for an altogether different reason. This movie made me believe that though Yash Chpra has moved along with time, his heart still remains in this genre of movies.

Of late, the Chopra stable has churned out some very entertaining and realistic movie. These movies are not only good, but they are radically different from Chopraā€™s usual creations. For the first time the ace director added pre-marital sex to his movie. Thatā€™s the sign of a great movie-maker; he knows the pulse of youth. It started with Hum Tum followed by Salaam Namaste and now Neal N Nikki.

I liked Salaam Namaste a lot because the movie relieved me from a personal turmoil. I always used to think I possess some feminine qualities as Iā€™m finicky about cleanliness and believe me I cannot sleep without doing dishes. But this movie made realise that Iā€™m not alone in the world. Besides, I have personal experience of living in, though it did not culminate in marriage.

I went to watch Neal N Nikki with great enthusiasm because I like Uday Chopra a lot. My fiancĆ©e calls him a horse, but I donā€™t mind that. Iā€™m also not averse to showing sex in movies and I know sex plays a very important role among modern youth. Itā€™s not that it did not play any role for older generation, but now itā€™s more explicit. However, the movie disappointed me. To be frank it was a poor joke. The director Arjun Sablok was not sure whether he wanted to make an all out comedy or pour in emotions a la Yash Chopra.

To top it all, sex was too gross in the movie. The biggest joke was that you sleep with a guy or gal and you know if he or she is perfect for you or not. Can be a great way of match-making!

Next time Chopra should pick up an intelligent director.

Though, Chopra disappointed me, the giant of Indian Film Industry, Amitabh Bachchan did not. He never stops to amaze me. He was looks very stylish in Ek Ajanabee and portrays varied emotions with Ć©lan. You must have seen thousands of movies with a storyline like Ek Ajnabee, but the movie stands apart only because of Big B.

I initially resolved not to watch Kalyug, but finally gave in. One should watch the movie because of the issue it has raised. There is no doubt itā€™s a badly executed movie, but please spare a though for all the people who have been secretly filmed while being intimate with their beloveds. And we know many a time their partners only catch them on camera and later make it public.

Itā€™s simply murder, murder of souls.

Hi Arhan,

I did my graduation about 15 years days back. In my college days, i did things which to this day i regret. Reading at your incident, something snaped inside me and i shot of the above comment. We all go thru the same phase, each one of us. I wanted to set the record straight as to why i wrote the above piece. It is a small community here, in Bihu.in and hope there is no ill feelings. Like I said - we do things in a hurry and repent at leisure.

God Bless

A1

Dear A1,

Thanks a lot for your rejoinder and it really makes you great. One needs high degree of conviction and courage to reply the way you have done. Hope, you would not comment on the spur of the moment in future, especially personal comments. I would like to forget the issue and leave everything behind. Iā€™m sure I was harsh, but wonā€™t say sorry coz that is meaningless.

Take care and God bless you.

Amour vincit omnia!

Arhan

Dear A1,

I donā€™t know why you call yourself A1, but to me you seem to be without any grade. I have read your blogs, never felt the urge to comment. Of course I was provoked when I saw your comment on my blog. I donā€™t mind harsh comments, but your comments were uncivilised. For others Iā€™ll copy the comment and also my reply to it.

A1: what work do u have in Nehru Park. U parents have spend their hard earned money to put you in Cotton College and accomodate you in the hostels there.

And you good-for-nothing students waste the money in movies and going to parks and teasing couples. since either you look like a bookworm with specs or you dont have the guts to talk to a girl and make friends.

these hostel students should be send back to the villages and small towns they come they. they think by watching movies and gossiping in tv room in hostels they can get good marks in exams.

grow up and have bigger aims.

Try to get a seat in Standford or Harvard.

Not to do a HS course in Cotton College and then flunk gracefully in Degree course

My reply: Thanks for your comment. Unfortunately I did not waste my parent's money and achieved whatever I wanted in life. I still don't wear spects and talk to lotta gals. The good part is that despite having all these wild fun and spending hours in movie halls, I could maintain my career. And there's no magic in it. All you need to do is to be sure of what you want out of life. I guess that's something beyond your comprehension, coz you don't seem to possess the thing that should have been properly placed over your shoulder. Anyway, I pity your kids if you are already a parent. If not, please don't produce one.

And dear preacher, please comment with your identity.

A1 again: Pl don't take my comments personally! its nothing to do with u 'Arhan' specifically. Taking a break in a park, is fine enough. But to be a moral police and start bashing up people? And then trying to wriggle out of a tight spot? Some bravado!

When we post our views on a public domain, we should expect a few comments, which may not be in tune with our frame of mind. I can understand what Anonymous meant! And ur outbrust against his comments i feel was an overkill!

But then u r still growing up! And the day u do so - u won't have the same views towards ur antics as u do now!

Its nice that u have not lost sight of your aim in life and career, inspite of ur extra-currlcular activities!

All the best,

I admit wasting parents hard earned money is sin. But in the story I was not at all trying to justify anything. It was just a first person account with liberal dose of fiction.

ā€œthese hostel students should be send back to the villages and small towns they come they. they think by watching movies and gossiping in tv room in hostels they can get good marks in examsā€

What do you mean by that? Do you think only small town guys or villages kids only indulge in such activities. If you think Guwahati is too big, travel a little buddy. It seems you have no respect for Cotton College. I donā€™t think too big about Cotton College, but I donā€™t think Harvard or Standford can only make your life. Get out of your US fixation, do something that even the US people respect you. But, thatā€™s beyond your capacity. In the name of dispassionate living, you have accepted defeat. Thatā€™s the problem with losers, they find fault with everything.

I guess you did not read my blog carefully. Did anyone of us try to be moral police? Bhaskar slapped the person because he had complained against us. I never tried to justify what we did. It was just a narration. You, by your reaction to that incident, are trying to act as moral police. Pack off village kids, huh! Now, youā€™ll say stop Arhan from posting in www.bihu.in

What do you mean by antics? It seems you have lead a life all by following social ethics and norms and that actually has created a moron out of you. Learn to enjoy life, instead of finding fault with others.

Iā€™m sure my words have hurt you and many people will find these words uncivilized. But, I guess you can feel the harshness of your words when you are treated with the same medicine.

What can I make out of a person who thinks I wear spects or I donā€™t have the guts to talk to gals just because we created nuisance in a park. Yes buddy, I said nuisance and Iā€™m candid about it.

And dare not to say that Cottonians are good for nothing. One still needs good marks to enter Cotton. One may choose to ruin his or life in Cotton College, but none is fool enough to think that without studies one can secure good marks in examination. So, please stop making generalised comments.

Besides, you still have not done anything great in life to comment on the lives of others and dictate who should be treated how. Have you done anything to refute this statement? Please let me know. Iā€™m waiting.

When the chowkidar told me that the superintendent had called me to his office I was expecting a call from home. My mother used to call me around half past seven in the evening. But when I saw the other members of gang of five outside Bajuā€™s office, I knew something was deadly wrong. All the superintendents in Cotton Hostels were christened with nick names, usually short froms of their full names. So, our superintendent Dr. Brajendra Nath Talukdar became Baju.

Inside Bajuā€™s office I saw monitors of all the three blocks and the person Bhaskar had slapped in the park. I understood what was waiting for me and instantly got ready for defence. God has gifted me with this peculiar power of not loosing my nerve when I face a crisis head on. That day was no exception.

The grilling started. ā€œKaushik, did you and your friends abuse this gentleman in Nehru Park and one of you physically assaulted him?ā€ Baju started like a judge.

ā€œSir, there is no straight answer to this question. We did not abuse this gentleman, but yes one of us did slap him,ā€ I said firmly.

ā€œShut up, you first year, donā€™t try to act smart. You are lying,ā€ the second block monitor howled at me. That was obvious as his friend was the victim.

ā€œHold on Nihar; let me ask. Why did you slap him and who was that culprit?ā€ intervened Baju.

I did not like the word culprit, but I knew that was not the time to oppose it. But I wanted to prove that the word gentleman was also not appropriate either.

ā€œSir, this person was sitting with a woman and he complained to police that we were creating nuisance in the park. We took offence to this fact and when we sought an explanation from him he misbehaved with us. Bhaskar lost his cool and slapped him. Bhaskar did a mistake, but why are we dragged into this?ā€ I attacked with a lie. Bhaskar had not given him a chance to misbehave.

ā€œSir, he is lying. I was sitting there with my sister-in-law. She was upset due to a family problem and I was trying to cheer her up. I did not make any complaint and did not misbehave with anyone,ā€ the gentleman screamed.

That was his greatest mistake.

ā€œIf you are telling the truth, I must say you are man of dubious character. You were hugging that woman and kissing her too on her lips. Is that the way you cheer up your sister-in-law? You were even smoking before her. Either you admit before your teacher that she was your girlfriend or you have an elicit relation with your sister-in-law. Besides, you had pointed a finger to us and that proves that you had complained,ā€ I delivered the severest blow like a seasoned lawyer.

The commotion had begun. The seniors were trying to defend the guy who had already been mauled by me and the ā€˜cupritsā€™ were trying to defend themselves with the ammunition I had unleashed. I was staring at Baju and he knew what my eyes had said.

ā€œSilence please! I got the whole story. There was provocation from both sides. I have enough reason to believe that you were spending some cosy moments with your beloved and got disturbed by these kids. You did complain to the police and this made these kids wild. Bhaskar did a mistake by slapping you and for that he will be punished. But the others were mere spectators to a volatile situation. My experience and Kaushikā€™s eyes make me believe that whatever he is saying is true,ā€ finally Baju delivered his judgement.

I had realised this special power of my eyes very early in life and always used it to the desired effect. Even the seniors believed me and came under the impression that four of us were absolutely innocent. It was actually a war between Bhaskar and their friend.

Baju tortured the ā€˜gentlemanā€™ for an hour with a lecture on morality and public behaviour and why we Indians should not display our emotions in public. Bhaskar was forced to say sorry and was later slapped generously in the TV room, which used to be the punishment room for first-year students.

I needed a scapegoat to save my skin, and happily sacrificed Bhaskar. Soon, he forgot all the slaps he had received, but could not forget a friend like me. None can ever. Gang of five fell apart that night and I started devoting my time to movies.

Little did I realise that gang of six was waiting for me.

Too many things happening today. Early in the morning, I saw a very weird picture; a male police officer in UP wears golden bangles in hands, colours his lips, puts kohl on eyes and turns up at his office in uniform. He claims himself to be re-incarnation of Radha, Lord Krishnaā€™s beloved. I wondered why he was still a free man. The man needs to see a shrink immediately.

By afternoon, it was clear that Lalu era in Bihar came to an end. I donā€™t know how would Bihar fare post Lalu regime, but the change was much required. I guess Lalu should now seriously contemplate a career in Hindi Film Industry.

But evening brought a very sad news. Sourav Ganguly was stripped of Test captaincy. Now, this is too much. Itā€™s now crystal clear that the selectors, who can never match Dadaā€™s achievements, are bent on killing his career. Arjuna Ranatunga said it right: we donā€™t know how to respect our heroes. In fact, we cannot tolerate anyone who is above average.

I wish everyone understood that God never believes in equality. There are some people who are superior and are entitled to whims and fancies of their own. Ganguly is one of them. Tell me why God created various breeds of dogs while he could be content with one type?

I do not know anything about psychology, but heard a term from my father- mob psychology. Whatever I gathered from him is something like this: when you are in a peer group you tend to care less about others and become aggressive. You get a feeling that whatever you do there is a force to support your action.

I guess this exactly happened when we entered Nehru Park. Barring Mrinmoy and me, others in the group were self-styled beau of three females I had never seen. Both Bhaskars were victims of unrequited love and Bikash was a great admirer of womenā€™s beauty. He fantasised himself as the prospective husband of every girl who caught his attention. Iā€™m not sure if girls meant anything beyond a sexual apparatus to Mrinmoy. And I was blissfully unaware of the power of eve till then.

Nehru Park was a shocker for me. Even today I cannot hug a girl in public, not even if she is my friend. And kissing? I guess Iā€™ll faint. And there I could see couples smooching right in front of my eyes. Those occupying the corner benches were even more adventurous. I saw live what I had seen in an English movie in Rupayan. This cinema hall was popular among students as it played English movies with A certificates.

While I was busy relishing my ā€˜believe-it-or-notā€™ experience, Bhaskar Bora started what he is famous for: poking his nose in otherā€™s affairs. He started hurling out choicest abuses at these couples. He received overwhelming support from the other four. Mrinmoy enjoyed harassing others, but that day I realised losers in lā€™affaire could be very spiteful.

Before I could react, someone decided to react.

A police constable came rushing to us and asked us to stop abusing. ā€œHas anyone complained against us? Whatā€™s the proof we are abusing?ā€ Bhaskar retorted.

The constable did not utter a word, but pointed his finger to a couple in an amorous hug.

Bhaskar did not take 30 minutes to reach the bench the couple was sitting and slapped the man. ā€œNever mess with Cottonian. I stay in SNBC Hostel, very near to this park. Next time I see you here, you are dead,ā€ our hero, or rather mob-leader declared.

That night gang of five saw him in the superintendentā€™s office of SNBC hostel. He was a Cottonian himself and friend of a senior border in the hostel.

The geographical location of Cotton College was perfect for any kind of student. The most happening cinema halls, including the ones which played adult English movies, could be reached on feet if the situation demanded. One can easily go for late night shows and walk down to the hostels. For those bookworms the district library was not even 300 metres away. The Rabindra Bhavan, which was adjacent to district library, offered a regular those of dramas and musicals.

Just in front of the main building of the college was Nehru Park, which happened to be the cheapest dating joint for poor lovers. If you canā€™t secure a place in this park, Dighali Pukhuri*, just behind the boysā€™ hostels, provided the second option. Where on earth will you get all these things together within a radius of one kilometre?

But thatā€™s not the end. The most exciting place was Handique Girlā€™s college, cleaved to two of the boysā€™ hostels. On one bank of the Dighali Pukhuri was this girlsā€™ college and on the other were Cottonā€™s own girlsā€™ hostels. So, every evening we would religiously take rounds of this ā€˜historicā€™ pond and ogle at Godā€™s greatest creations chirping around happily. (Dighali Pukhuri is historic because itā€™s a silent witness to many love stories.)

I had spent my childhood and teenage among books, so did not want to spoil my precious freedom from parental regime with printed words. Library was a no-entry zone for me. For my mother watching movies was a sin. So, I wanted to see lots of movies and make up for the lost time.  Whatever free time I could squeeze out from my movie-watching schedule, I slept. Till then girls did not attract me much; in fact, I was almost a misogynist.

In short, my daily routine was like this: I would get up at 10, catch the first show at 11, come back to hostel by the time dinner bell rings and go back to sleep. I used to watch two-three movies at a stretch. There was nothing beyond movies and dreaming about movies. For a border of SNBC hostel it was misuse of an opportunity sent from heaven. A seat in this hostel ensures that you can watch all the girls in the college from the safety of your room. The small lane between two blocks of our hostel was used as a short-cut by all the girls desperate to catch their lessons on time. I still wonder if there was any urgency or they simply enjoyed the way we teased them.

One year later, this misogynist mastered the art of eve-teasing.

But before that, one evening I landed up in Nehru Park with rest of gang of five. It was 17^th September, Viswakarma Puja and the day gang of five was together for the last time. Itā€™s great to be Cottonian in Assam, but not wise to flaunt it everywhere and we did exactly that. Later that night we paid a heavy price for it, especially Bhaskar Bora.

Exactly one year later, on the same day I and Debajit was on the roof of a bus, a la Shah Rukh Khan though we did not sing Chaiya Chaiya.

*Dighali Pukhuri is a pond and a recreational spot.

When Bhaskar is around you make friends very fast. Soon we formed a gang of five who wanted to break rules as we thought it was glamorous. All of us had a pseudo-intellectual streak, loved to discuss Albert Camus and Kafka, we had not read anyone of them. Four of us were intoxicated by Homen Borgohain* and worshipped him with the same intensity that Al Qaeda members have for Jihad.

It betrayed logic.

Bhaskar hated Homen Borgohain because he thought it was cool and that added mystery to his persona. How someone can dislike Homen Brogohain, we wondered. It worked for Bhaskar.

There was another Bhaskar in the team. Only three things mattered in his life: good clothes, good food and Raktima. He also did not matter to anyone in the college, especially to Raktima. I still have a doubt that he enjoyed crying. He would cry at anything. Almost every evening when the Brahmmaputra gulped down the sun, Bhaskar would start crying. Itā€™s so beautiful; he would say and shed tears!

Bikash and Mrinmoy were with us only to have fun. They were waiting for the medical entrance result and the three yearsā€™ degree course that they had got themselves enrolled in was actually a back up. Bikash was obsessed with his hair and Mrinmoy enjoyed boring people to death. He could talk nonsense for hours without caring if others were interested or not.

You must be wondering how these five weirdoes can be friends. Bhaskar needed followers and he knew how to drag people around.

But he did not know I was exactly the opposite of what he thought of me.

I never thought high of friendship and did not believe in the existence of moral science. I was the first one to stab on his back as I needed a scapegoat to save my skin. I have never repented consciously for what I did though had to enact a big drama to show how I had sacrificed Bhaskar for nobler causes.

That was the end of gang of five, which survived two months. Bikash and Mrinmoy became doctors. The other Bhaskar went back to home town and I and Bhaskar Bora became enemies.

Today, Bhaskar thinks Iā€™m his friend and he loves me for that.

* Homen Borgohain is a noted Assamese author and journalist.