Bin Sahra - Son of the desert

I've never seen snow. But I love oceans of burning sand more, with wave like dunes. Ever since my first visit to a desert, I've been in love.


...more to come...

Red, White and Blue

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It was the first day of school and a new student named Chandrashekhar Subrahmanyam entered the fourth grade.

The teacher said, "Let's begin by reviewing some American History, Who said "Give me Liberty, or give me Death"? She saw a sea of blank faces, except for Chandrashekhar, who had his hand up: "Patrick Henry, 1775" he said. "Very good!"

Who said " Government of the People, by the People, for the People, shall not perish from the Earth?"

Again, there was no response from the class.

"Abraham Lincoln, 1863" said Chandrashekhar.

The teacher snapped at the class, "Class, you should be ashamed. Chandrashekhar, who is new to our country, knows more about its history than you do."

She heard a loud whisper: "F**k the Indians,"

"Who said that?" she demanded.

Chandrashekhar put his hand up. "General Custer, 1862."

At that point, a student in the back said, "I'm going to puke."

The teacher glares around and asks "All right! Now, who said that?"

Again, Chandrashekhar says, "George Bush to the Japanese Prime Minister, 1991." (Broccoli incident, as far as I remember )

Now furious, another student yells, "Oh yeah? S*ck this!"

Chandrashekhar jumps out of his chair waving his hand and shouts to the teacher, "Bill Clinton, to Monica Lewinsky, 1997!"

Now with almost mob hysteria someone said "You little shit. If you say anything else, I'll kill you."

Chandrashekhar frantically yells at the top of his voice, "Gary Condit to Chandra Levy, 2001."

The teacher fainted. And as the class gathered around the teacher on the floor, someone said, "Oh shit, we're f**ked!"

And Chandrashekhar said quietly, "George Bush, Iraq, 2005."

Priceless - what kind of a fart are you ?

Corresponding to the date of your birth.


1-AMBITIOUS - Always ready for a fart.

2-LAZY - Just fizzles

3-AMIABLE - Likes to smell others farts

4-SELFISH - Only enjoys smelling own farts

5-CARELESS - Farts in church

6-SMART ALEC - Farts when ladies are present.

7-CLEVER - Farts and coughs at same time

8-SCIENTIFIC - Bottles own farts

9-STINGY - Belches instead of farting to save a*****e

10-FOOLISH - Farts and laughs.

11-SHY - Blushes even when farts silently.

12-CONCEITED - Thinks they can fart loudest.

13-UNLUCKY - Tries to fart and shits pants.

14- TIMID - Jumps when farting.

15-BEWILDERED - can't tell own farts from others.

16-SLOVENLY - Farts and fizzles, rots pants.

17-NERVOUS - Stops in middle of fart.

18-MISERABLE - Can't fart

19-CONFUSED - Face looks so much like ass, Farts don't know where to go.

20-GROUCH - Grumbles when ladies fart.

21-SNEAKY - Farts and blames it on the dog.

22-DISAPPOINTED - Their farts don't stink.

23-FRESH GUY - Jumps in front of you and farts.

24-BIG BULLY - Farts louder than everyone else.

25-DELUDED - Enjoys all farts thinking they are their own.

26-CUTE - Discovers from farts what others have eaten.

27-WISE - Farts and say's "Who in hell shit ??"

28-DAMNED MEAN - Farts in bed and pulls covers over wife's head.

29-MUSICAL - Tenor or bass Clear as a bell Smells like shit Sounds like hell.

30-HONEST - Farts and blames in on the hostess.

31-LIVELY - Jumps in air, farts three times, kicks like hell simultaneously.

FYI I was born on the 30th

Are women really getting prettier or is it just me ? I mean on the Metro, at malls, shops, marketplaces, other cities in India and abroad, everywhere... a change is apparent. Although their taste can be debated, there seems to be a heightened consciousness among them about the way they look. So is it a phenomenon I'm experiencing ? It's kinda sweet too... I mean before you feminists out there start men bashing ( and bashing me ) , we CAN appreciate beauty without sexual overtones, although we are biologically programmed like that.

And seriously, awesome women can make me feel like a lost puppy.

O_o
U


.... like that...

Ever wondered why some characters in a movie aren't just there in the sequel ? The hard won girlfriend, the old enemies ( unless they're like ... annihilated ) , the hero's old car. Inevitably he will have moved to another city, and will have new friend circles etc. It's so weird.

Alma Mater

As the mists of time clear ..... I see yellow and green. And a vast patch of dusty brown. And a grey expanse.

"Ammu .. aami aar school change korbo na !" And I never cried. Coming from the boy who DIDN'T at all go for the Don Bosco interview because he kept clinging to his mum and dad and just cried away. I remember queues of scrawny boys bowed under their weighty bags ... facing a dias with a bearded man on the microphone. Soon I would learn that it was the burden of what I called paradise. Partly.

Then I climbed the stairs to the first floor and entered my first classroom. Mr Tyebbhoy in her traditional Boh'rah abayah. Those were the first steps.

Fast forward twelve years ...... to a time I knew would come. Inevitable. I'd often wondered how it would feel when I looked at "big school" with eyes filled with wonder, as we inexorably moved towards the ultimate end. Or beginning. zweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
Flung high over Short Street , success , recognition , respect, -can't bring more than Rs. 10 to school limit - , no more omg its 3 o'clock no one's come to pick me up .....

I was comfortably numb. At the stage where - you're just the bengali teacher so don't mess with me..... coz about every other teacher loves me ? -. You get me ?

School fests , hysteria , euphoria, magic ..... rocking the girl's schools ...... shutting up the commentators with our brilliance. tum tum tata.... tum tum tata .... Bundle's guitar kept repeating ........ we're just livin' a lie.....

And then the end drew closer. Harrowed , sleepless nights over Solid state and thermodynamics. But hey.... I was a genius. I told my mom I had a V12 in my head ..... I do 0-100 in 6s. I studied for ISC only for about 2 weeks prior to its commencement. Yo.

Then the Epilogue was written ...... and as the credits rolled by.... I realised it couldn't have been better ......... but I didn't wanna let go. But I had to. And I couldn't. And I didn't know where I could go.

Because I hadn't studied enough for that.

So the last precious moments I couldn't savour. I was numbed. Numb numb numb. And not comfortable either. "Can't somebody hear me I'm screaming from so far away...."

Then I went underground......... and when I resurfaced I was back in action. But I think my soul still lies there. I forgot to pack it up when I left ...... so disillusioned. It still wakes up every morning ...... and clad in white it walks under the tree canopy leading to the yellow wall with black wrought iron gates, with strains of Satriani's Starry Night wafting through the air like a heavenly hymn.

"And you know what pleases me the most ? The way you all come back."

I would give anything to return. I'd give anything to relive EVERY MOMENT of it. Including the bad ones.

Nihil Ultra.




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footnote : A rather intense expression this may be ..... and many people suggest I should move on. "In a way it's over..." as one so eloquently put it ..... and rightly too. But remember , it is what made us. And I am not ashamed of admitting I can't let go. I needn't.

Fairy Tale - I

Once fairy tales captured our imagination. Will they still ? At this age ? When we ... well whatever.
Of crusading knights and Saracens ? Hmm hmm.... blonde damsels locked up by evil witches in high towers ? Guarded by dragons ? Lost treasures ? Lost relics ? With magical powers ?

Is it the horses and the swords ? The chivalry ? The magic ? The royalty? The glory ? The honour ? The countryside ? The castles ? The battles ? The heroism ?
Hmmz

Its escapism.

I used to love fairy tales. I've read Enid Blyton , and offcourse the staple Grimm's.
Ah ! Pixies and fairies and gnomes, talking toys , elves ...
I'd seen the whole series of Grimm's at Nandan at some film festival. My parents took me. I enjoyed every moment.

I have a relationship with Soviet Russia . The erstwhile USSR. Yes. No , this isn't baloney. When I was around 2 or 3, i used to subscribe to this Soveit children's mag called MISHA. Illustrated. It had comics , as well as stories, anecdotes, activities, write ins and description of children's lives in the USSR. And yes ... I remember being read all that ... i shall smack anyone who even dares to suggest otherwise.

Political propoganda or not ... communism democracy be hanged .....
My eyes used to fill with wonder , amazement and joy. Nothing compares to it.
It used to have folk and fairy tales from all over the world. Ukraine , Turkmenistan , Kyrghyzstan, Mongolia, China , Japan , Vietnam, Cambodia India are just a few.

Then the USSR fell . The magazine stopped. So stopped my monthly dose of Baba Yaga (Russian witch ) and the Spotted Cap , and Aldar Kose ( a Kyrghyz wit ). And all the joy associated with MISHA.

I HATE you .... you self righteous bastards ... upholders of freedom , democracy blah blah and all that m***********g crap.. it don't mean shit to you you liars it's ALL a farce. LOOK at the world today. THAT's what your ideals have done ... you kill millions and yet justify everything and demand acceptance. Why ? Just because you're on the frekkin otherside of the law ?

Those were precious to me. I have preserved every magazine. And I still read them sometimes.

Raduga publishers (Moscow ) used to have a stall in the book fair every year. They sold books for really cheap. Russian translations. My parents bought me "The Golden Goblet" by Karim Tangrikuliev. A story of a young boy and his narratives , in Central Asia. As he grows up.

I am not that articulate, and I am sleepy now. Hence .. its simply beautiful.
Ends with the commencement of WWII. ..... woooohoooooo ! :D *expletive*

I have read Central Asian folk / fairy tales. Magical. These tales from the vast arid steppes speak of romance and adventure of a different sort.

Then I have Russian fairy tales..... of Princess Alyonushka..... and all those wonderful things ...
The Firebird .... and the Horse that Prince Ivan rode to rescue his Alyonushka..... Set in the cold cold snow covered conifers on Northern Russia ....... it's white magic.

( Maria Sharapova was my real life Alyonushka ) *blush*

It's been long since I last read a fairy tale. Or felt like I was in a fairy tale. I am no longer in the Age of Innocence. Everything has to be assessed with practicality and prudence. There is no time to daydream. Really .. I'm lost for words... feels like I have no place to escape to. Being realistic does help us get through life. But then again ... life's like a dream. Isn't that what the Bard said ?

Hold my hand , let us fly

Let all the reality pass us by

Over the mountains, through the mist

Where myth and magic still exist

Where sparkling waters meander

And paths through wooded valleys wander

Of glorious battles without any pain

With glory and joy in both sun and rain

Sweet scent from flowers, ripe fruit from trees

Bathed in soft sunshine, caressed by the breeze

Where we had our love, amidst mountains and streams

That place is better than all of our dreams

How long before we heed the calling ?

Or shall we be forever falling ?

We traded for lies, look what we lost

At what cost my love ? At what cost ?

Hold my hand ,my love, let us fly
Let all the reality pass us by
Over the mountains, through the mist
Where myth and magic still exist.