tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34537525096219852142024-03-13T06:32:43.916-07:00Ankita's Blogankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-77923553375593039742010-07-14T08:20:00.000-07:002010-07-14T08:27:02.093-07:00lazy reminiscence<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TD3WeJcOxxI/AAAAAAAAAHM/CsH6E-T7K3Y/s1600/front-porch-in-afternoon-light.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TD3WeJcOxxI/AAAAAAAAAHM/CsH6E-T7K3Y/s200/front-porch-in-afternoon-light.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493782933880620818" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">After a long lazy morning spent indulging in gallons of Nescafe & scanning through the grimy old magazines scattered around the house, I took up a thriller novel borrowed from the local library to restrain my lazy bones from midday nap. But the seductive French psycho killer was not enough to take my long nourished indolence at the back seat…and I zonked out! Shriveled under the quilt, I had to unwillingly open my eyes when the light of late afternoon beamed through the bay window and a handful of pleasant drowsiness sparkled around me. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">It was one of those moments when I found myself with least of strength to fight back the feeling of nostalgia creep into me. It had a distinct feeling…a distinct smell… the world around filled up with the last ray of light and signified end of another day…that’s when I found myself with overpowering seclusion. The fight I lost, the way I let my incapability to get exposed to those bullies, backstabbing, the first smoke, first dance at terrace in monsoon, the view of adolescence, the teenage crush whom I humiliated, first time I lied to mom, the tremble felt to touch hand of somebody for the first time in a dark movie theatre, first class we bunked, the feeling of first love…first time when I found somebody dead inside me…at times life seemed to be nothing more than a retrospective of black and white snapshots. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;">I needed to burn the overly dramatic feeling gathered up inside me…I groped for a cigarette. Once the smoke entered within, it seemed easy to calm down…I stayed in my messy bed leisurely for some more time and watched how suddenly it became dark outside. And my phone rang…perfect timing!! I needed a heavy shove to get my mind back in place…and Mom called!! After ten minutes long lectures on my career, household and top of all ‘Marriage’ she exempted me at last. I woke up finally…its time to work…</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"> </span></span></o:p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-78764921983950703682010-07-03T02:52:00.000-07:002010-07-03T09:49:49.685-07:00Quest of verve<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TC8IlIUbLCI/AAAAAAAAAHE/YqbdY_vLuHA/s1600/6f6cf5e0c1e05093f0a71e6922e3ad47.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 140px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TC8IlIUbLCI/AAAAAAAAAHE/YqbdY_vLuHA/s200/6f6cf5e0c1e05093f0a71e6922e3ad47.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489615904769256482" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">After pondering over the sloth Adrika gathered all day, she decided to put some final touches on her lazy day canvas. Took a large mug of brewing coffee…threw herself over the cozy couch and sit by the window of her bed room…after all, nothing could possibly make her feel better than the sight of busy city folks on the runway, struggling to add more zeros on their pay cheques …Adrika was left with immense pleasure to realize that she found a place in the rare category of species who had to bear with boredom in a city full of industrious people…at least for one single day! Thanks to her generous land lady, she could manage a fine share of view of the city through her window glass…in fact she could afford some more thousands only for this (though by the grace of God, surprisingly she found herself sensible enough to not to articulate her thoughts to that money sucking witch).</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">Adrika fell in love with this city as soon as her flight landed here. But even before she could manage to get accustomed with the vibes, those huge monstrous high rise buildings with uncountable number of offices in each of it, crumbled her with despair. An underpaying job, colleagues who looked more like the werewolves, a boss who looked like a pimp…her job sucks big time! But it taught her the over practiced best excuse invented by the Association of ‘I hate my job’ Suckers to stand with the work… ‘I had no choice’… which she uttered at every morning before leaving for office to be blessed with the strength to cope up with her life. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">But at night on her way to home…sleepy & tired…when she used to hear roars of waves thrashing down the shores of city, it seemed not so hard to learn to live in this place…to learn to ‘love’ this city. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> She was left with despondency when people said she was never going to find a house of her choice…she was never going to find a place from where she could hear sound of the waves. Every body charged an earth for a sea facing two room flat (God, how she wished to get a millionaire boyfriend!). But then, this country is not devoid of stupid after all (though an alarming rate of lower productivity is visible nowadays). She met with this old widow money worshiper lady…who had at least one advantage for her…the lady was ‘dull’ enough to rent her heaven like flat to a low payment laborer. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663366;">So…at last…there was Adrika... took her first day off till she arrived here, to spend quality time with her new found home…after months of neck biting hard work, she decided to spend her day idle…with her cup of cappuccino she watched how the sea washed away defilement of the giant city with setting of the weary sun…who said this city is lifeless? </span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-82233517095615525942010-07-02T13:07:00.000-07:002010-07-02T13:12:32.901-07:00And the Phoenix flies...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TC5IGTDIY7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/cioOjsTJncY/s1600/run_away_of_the_darkness_by_666_NaTxO_666.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/TC5IGTDIY7I/AAAAAAAAAG8/cioOjsTJncY/s200/run_away_of_the_darkness_by_666_NaTxO_666.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489404268841034674" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">The girl of small town. The one who always believed in fairy tales. Who always hoped and wished she could become the Cinderella once. The girl who loved to dream. The Caring Mistress who always wanted to own a citadel of her own. The one who wanted to love and be loved for better and worse. The child who wanted to care her family like a mother. The girl who wanted to be the </span><st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">Phoenix</span></st1:place></st1:city><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> for once in a life. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">......once found herself in the midst of reality!! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">It was not her nightmare…it was not something she could afford to witness even in her wildest dream…it was her long hidden fear…it was, this time, happened for true!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> Scared for a long time by the terrible cloudburst, she thought the world outside her own-built castle of illusory dreams, has come to an end. Done with her fear, it was time for the Powerful Rebel staying inside her to come out to play. She crossed the threshold at last. With eyes closed, she stretched her hands wide and screamed aloud, ‘‘hit me hard…no matter how much you try I’m not gonna cry this time’’ Trembling with freeze, she tried to stand strong. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">It was hard to be in the shield she made around herself. No matter how much she tried, with every blow of wind she lost control of her long protected ‘strength’…she hated to be revealed with her fragility. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;">But she knew whose conspiracy it was. It was ‘him’ who wanted her to be broken down…it was ‘him’ who wanted her to be revealed with all her weaknesses…it was ‘him’ who wanted to take away her strength. It was the one who threw herself to the land of ‘reality’…the one who made Cinderella to wait but never came back…she would not let him win this time. </span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-44551891261738074782010-05-05T07:21:00.000-07:002010-05-05T07:36:59.248-07:00Touch of Serenity<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S-GCMjmmL7I/AAAAAAAAAG0/emDkqtAP0Mg/s1600/justagirllu+blog+rain+on+window.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 133px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S-GCMjmmL7I/AAAAAAAAAG0/emDkqtAP0Mg/s200/justagirllu+blog+rain+on+window.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467794574831660978" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I opened the door & run out of my house…as the smell of dry earth wetted with rain water got chance to enter into my soul, the force of enchantment seemed hard to resist. I sprawled on the ground. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I stretched my hand to feel the drops to heal my essence…the gust came to kiss my face…rain drops rolled down my hair to wash away the curse I had…smell of rain embraced me with long craved serenity. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Always wary about the reaction of people around, the weak ‘me’ living inside could never found the way to get out. The rain drops poured on me to replete the stoicism hidden within my core underneath the veil of arrogance….perhaps somebody was there who knew how much I needed a lid to guard myself from the world outside…which will enable me to cry out hard. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">The pile of frustration, anger, pain I had inside all came out at one go…I lament alone under the blue…only the raindrops falling down the leaves of </span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Yosemite</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> silently played the role of sole witness. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">Unburdened after the long craved relief, did not know how long I sat still on the meadow… when opened my eyes, the world seemed to be full of green, inundated by first rainfall of the season. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"> </span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#000099;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;">I looked up…a rainbow appeared at west side of the sky!</span></span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-48432082870269733482010-04-16T05:49:00.000-07:002010-04-16T05:52:39.555-07:00Way to Salvation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S8hdkpVDfGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/cTJjLBKIPRg/s1600/2025318_f520.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S8hdkpVDfGI/AAAAAAAAAGs/cTJjLBKIPRg/s200/2025318_f520.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460717432337562722" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">She walked down the beach. The web of enchantment spread by the moon drenched in enticing aroma of the ocean filled up her senses. Every step she took towards the deep sea seemed like her walk towards death which extended its arms to beset her with sanctity. She felt tranquility inside her soul when the wave came to kiss her feet to welcome her to the door to paradise. She took a deep long breath…stretched her hand wide to touch the air. A sudden breeze came with healing touch & everything became blurred… she was familiar with the smell drifting around her …it was of him!!</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"> </span></b></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">Lost count of time, she didn’t know when he came behind her. She wanted to turn back to look into his eyes but feeling of debility creep into her. No one utter a single word, only sound of waves remained. How she wished for the distance between them to be reduced. How she wished to turn around & hold him close to her soul to make him listen to the thump of her heart…to plead him to remove the ‘musk’ at least for once…to be ‘true’ for the last time.</span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"> </span></b></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">He slowly divulged his best card with dexterity to devour her in his demise love…he came closer …and whispered in her ear ‘…Let me be your hero…’ His warm breath on her neck, his hand around her waste, touch of his lips on her earlobe…she was sentenced to eternal damnation! </span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"> </span></b></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">She had to find her way to escape from the castle he built on lie…gathered last bit of strength to free herself from the embrace of hell. She took her steps forward…no matter how much she craved, she didn’t look back…for she knew her inability to pretend would make her fragile in front of him. She found herself in the midst of cross road…life long confinement in the maze of swindle or imperishable salvation. </span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;"> </span></b></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6666CC;">She was left with unfathomable ripple in front of her… </span></b></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-76049605626123064732010-04-04T13:25:00.000-07:002010-04-05T05:57:54.813-07:00Ignited Faith<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S7j4DysevVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/uaooFxfGUi4/s1600/2891637085b8f9a2b2a3ze3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 181px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S7j4DysevVI/AAAAAAAAAGM/uaooFxfGUi4/s200/2891637085b8f9a2b2a3ze3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456383692590988626" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">Sin clasped my spirit. I struggled, I cried, I put together all my strength to shout out loud to say ‘Set me Free’…but it seemed like one of those dreams where I had no voice of my own. I was fettered. Beckoning of the ray of glory at the end of the tunnel was impossible to resist. The illumination dazed my eyes…trapped in sin I thought it was nothing but an illusion, schemed by the evil to kill my soul forever. I tried to turn away to make myself realize that I could never go out of the tunnel, there is no hope at the end & better I should give up now, because its better to be defeated by the evil instead of end up the whole Life…I wanted to live more than anything else and if that was the only way left for my survival I thought it was better to accept that instead of hunt for the light that would never come. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">I was tired of fighting with my destiny. For the last time I gathered all my belief to pray to the unseen almighty, if there anything exist at all…this time not to ask for a change but to provide me enough power to let me learn how to survive in a death trap. But as time was hauling up its trap to devour me with transgression, I felt the glory coming out from the end of the tunnel was slowly started to ignite the circumstance around me…it left me baffled. It’s perhaps easier to be a disciple of incredulity than an ardent follower of Trust. There fore when music of life entered into the tunnel & filled my mind with splendor & freed me of the shackles of sin, I thought this was no real & as soon as I will open up my eyes everything will be as filthy as it was before. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">But He turns up at the end of the road. It was hard to regain my faith…but He made it even harder to turn my back to Him. There was endless fight inside me…it was tough to believe that He made me free of all the evil spirit & I had Him right there beside me to show me the way. I couldn’t even realize when He made me to shed off the burden of disbelief. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">He filled my heart with bliss. I got the power to fly without wings…one touch of his magic wind healed all my wounds…He took me to the doorway to Nirvana. When I turned to look back to the world I left behind, I found its power to scare me was not there any more…I had 'Him' beside me…forever!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;">Hallelujah!</span><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-56903796277492211402010-03-23T12:03:00.000-07:002010-03-23T12:19:08.879-07:00A Night Of Trance Reality<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>She thought it was a delusion when the bell rang. Stupefied for a moment Zara decided to lie down at the bed instead of answering the door. But the visitor was reluctant to go. The bell rang once more, this time harder. Annoyed by the visitor’s enthuse, Zara had to get up from the bed. Still drowsy, she opened the door. It was slight dark outside. “Who is it?” she said. The shadow slowly moved towards her… terrified & perplexed Zara tried in lame to close the door, but the shadow was weirdly stronger </b></span></p><img src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S6kQ1IaZzJI/AAAAAAAAAGE/tQWEd98-L2A/s200/1676465_zqt3m_7287.jpg" style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 171px; height: 200px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5451907328886033554" /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>than she could think of. He came in & slammed the door. Frozen with fear Zara couldn’t even shout for help. The man came few steps close to her & stopped. Unbearable silence built pillars of dread around them. Zara found it hard to get her voice back until the sudden blow of gust entered into the room from the north window. “Ryan?” she whispered. She couldn’t believe the smell drifting around her, the body in front of her was of Ryan! Bewilder by the moment she couldn’t understand what to do. He slowly came closer & held her hand. “Yes it’s me…who else do u think would dare to come to your house like this?” Ryan said in a low voice, which left Zara enchanted in the same way just as it used to do earlier. Trembling with mixed feelings she tried in vein to get hold on her emotions while he kissed on her hand. Hated to break down in front of him but she couldn’t help but to hug him in immense ardency. Seems like ages she touched him...</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>She hated it, but Ryan’s existence compelled her to collapse. Sat down on the floor, she found it hard to utter a single word to him despite of all the rehearsals she had in her alone-time to prepare herself for this moment. He ruined her plan once again! The immense amount of hatred, anger, guilt she has stored in her heart for herself came down in form of hot stream of water and rolled down her cheeks. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>Just like earlier Ryan fantastically played role of a perfect spectator whilst Zara got unmanageable with sudden burst of varied emotions. Insufferable moment of tranquility spread in the room. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>Done with weeping, the silence gave Zara time to realize it was ‘Ryan’ who was in front of her…who made her life worth living & murdered her soul at the same time. She realized perhaps life would not give her another chance to feel his existence again in her life time. She knew she had little time left. His exit from Zara’s life made her realize that life without him wouldn’t be worth living no matter how perfect it could be. She craved for him every night…she cried for him with sight of every single thing that was connected with him. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>Fighting with her ego, Zara went up to Ryan to try for the last time to make him fall in love with her. She hugged him again....strong enough to not let him go away until he surprised her with an unexpected move…he held her waist & took her to the bed. Dazed by the act, Zara had no control over her mind to understand what was going on until she felt Ryan was slowly unfolding her soul with his amazing strokes. Her wings got the power to fly once again. With every touch of Ryan she felt she was coming back to life…</b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>Zara lost count of time… it was when the night slowly removed his curtain of gloom she realized the first light was shining through the glass. Ryan had to go…she held his hand for the last time & asked, “Whatever happened was that out of lust or is there anything left?” He stopped for a while. With an unfamiliar crooked smile, he whispered on her ear, “I did it out of L-O-V-E honey!” Kissed on her hand, he left the room. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>The clock struck five. Zara didn’t know for how long she lied still in the same place where Ryan left him. The music of the wall clock filled the room, but she couldn’t gather enough desire to get back to her normal life. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b>She knew whatever happened was not real…she knew she could never ever feel the real 'Ryan' again…but perhaps sometimes illusion proved more essential for survival than reality. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#663333;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-59630827587540286652010-03-12T04:35:00.000-08:002010-03-12T08:00:22.399-08:00The Astral Journey<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S5o2sUobMvI/AAAAAAAAAF8/yRWb1E3Mfl0/s1600-h/2990366661_c578d82d75.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 190px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S5o2sUobMvI/AAAAAAAAAF8/yRWb1E3Mfl0/s200/2990366661_c578d82d75.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447726834338444018" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b>My heart singed by the chastity…beckoning of hope seemed impossible to resist. Quest for my long lost belief seemed to come to an end. Still I was not strong enough to fight with the fears I had… I forgot to live. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b>I tried to hear the music of life but my heart was still pervaded with the fragrance of yours…my mind was still captivated with single most memories of yours…you left no room for me to make a new one. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b>But I knew I had to move on…I knew you were not worthy enough to give up my life…I knew you were the one who killed my spirit. I tried to take help of hatred to gather some strength to ignore your thoughts & extend my hand to touch the light instead…that helped a bit. I realized I had more reasons to hate you. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b>As I groped towards the illumination, I felt sound of your laugh was fading out…with every step of mine, I was shedding off the feeling of your touch left in me…I was leaving you! </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> I felt numb as I reached the end…I had the world full of glow in front of me…I could learn the way to live once again. But as I was about to take the last step I got shivers down my spine…I turned my back & shut the window. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b>Breaking down into tears, I realized no matter how much bad you have done, no matter how contemptible you were I failed to take you out of my soul…My Love for you remains. </b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><b> </b></span></o:p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-37531352188356840852010-01-16T02:45:00.000-08:002010-01-16T02:51:35.848-08:00Conspiracy of love<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S1GaARLSuqI/AAAAAAAAAF0/5DuSNGrak5A/s1600-h/18778684hp0.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S1GaARLSuqI/AAAAAAAAAF0/5DuSNGrak5A/s200/18778684hp0.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427288355359603362" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">Last night you woke me up. Why did you swathe your smell with the gust? I know it was ‘you’ who instructed it to play with my hair just the way you used to do. I know it was ‘you’ who instructed it to bind me with excessive indulgence just the way you used to do. I know ‘you’ are the intriguer! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Still intoxicated with the intense pain I went up to shut the window…but you, the swindler, trained the breeze to remind me of all the words you sang to me on that moonlit night. You made sound of the wind to reverberate every word you said to me which I thought was lost with resonance of life. I drew a veil over my thoughts, locked them into the deep dark room of my heart & shut the window glass. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But you were not ready to accept defeat. You used darkness of the room to clasp me tight & to make me suffer in your thought. You scraped my heart & made me bleed once again. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to put on the light & screw your conspiracy…but one part of me still wanted to feel the pain of yours!</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-27408800186955971892010-01-10T10:24:00.000-08:002010-01-16T00:42:08.868-08:00The Devil's Touch<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S0odRfK9IoI/AAAAAAAAAFE/ys0d678SLHI/s1600-h/fear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/S0odRfK9IoI/AAAAAAAAAFE/ys0d678SLHI/s320/fear.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5425180887383614082" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">I screamed for help. I could not bear the suffocating dark & unendurable silence creeping over me. There was not a single ray of light. I was too scared to make a move. I hoped for someone to blow his magic wind to help me to get my way to life. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">My voice clogged…I couldn’t stand up to take a step forward. Right then I felt he was there…I felt my blood warming up. I could hear ‘Thud Thud’ of my heart. He was leaning forward me. His smell dazzled me. He held my face up between his freezing hands. Only that moment I realized I was actually trembling in fear. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Few drops of hot stream run out of my eyes & start rolling down my cheek…I couldn’t utter a word. I listened to the sound of his breathing. I felt his face was just inches from mine. He was scared too! He slowly rested his head over my frail shoulder. And as I tried to hold his hand, suddenly he pulled himself back. I could feel him flinching. I had no power to make him stop. Time went by…I couldn’t hear his sound. I searched for his smell…he was gone!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">I sat in dark… left alone to fight with my vulnerability. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"> </span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">And that was it. I woke up from my nightmare. But my heart was still running at faster rate. I wiped out the water drops appeared at my temple. I sighed, it was just a dream!</span></p><p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-12264442024887116582010-01-08T12:51:00.000-08:002010-01-11T20:42:03.775-08:00The silent revolution<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";">They say you can’t get commercial success if your film deals with socio political climate of the time. Your film will be tagged as ‘Parallel Film’ & will be out of the race of ‘Mainstream Film’. They say, to earn profit, make ‘popular film’ & if your film deals with a serious content you will get only ‘Awards’ instead of ‘moolah’! But today when I walked out of the New Empire cinema hall I realized why Ingmar Bergman said, <b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">‘No form of art goes beyond ordinary consciousness as film does, straight to our emotions, deep into the twilight room of the soul.’ </span><o:p></o:p></i></b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";">Being a media student, I used to think why critics tagged films like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">‘Pather panchali’ </i>or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">‘Ajantrik’</i> parallel film or art film. I could not understand the conflict between art & business. Why can’t we experiment with new ideas & earn profit as well? Why do we have to treat our audience as ‘dumb’ to win their heart? I couldn’t understand the conflict between entertainment & education (while being the most powerful mass medium, the primary function of Film is ‘to educate’).<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";"><span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Today I got my answer with 3 Idiots. Jam-packed Entertainment, stat value, splendid cinematography, exclusive treatment, wonderful plot, out-of-the-box concept and successful marketing- the film has it all. It won’t be a hyperbole statement if I say this film is a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">‘path breaking film’</i> of our time. I can hardly remember any other film of a decade to earn as much box office success as 3 Idiots does while dealing with a social topic. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";">The film is perhaps answer to those cynics who burst into loud lamentation with films like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Dostana</i> or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">Dev D</i>, who think modern films are the main reason of ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">youth dilapidation’</i>. The film is perhaps answer to those directors who think people come to watch their film only to relax at AC halls, to have popcorn & cola & have their share of peek into heroines cleavage, so there is no point to bore them with nonsense intelligent films.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="Book Antiqua"font-family:";">But Raju Hirani proved we can deliver the ‘message’ incorporated with wholesome entertainment to the masses without compromising on ‘business’. If the trend continues, it will not be wrong saying that the day is not so far when the whole Indian Film Industry might say <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">‘All Izz Well’</i>!!!<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-87470250717217966192009-12-20T09:34:00.000-08:002009-12-20T20:26:08.358-08:00Forbidden Passion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/Sy5iPKuSP1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/gGAkrawWuZ4/s1600-h/dark_love_by_TheKidNiki.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/Sy5iPKuSP1I/AAAAAAAAAEY/gGAkrawWuZ4/s320/dark_love_by_TheKidNiki.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5417375414489333586" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">My heart beat wildly as I could feel his icy cold breathe on my cheek. A feeling of dread pulled at me. I tried in vain to lie at bed as motionless as possible, but perhaps he heard my heart beat on which I had no control of. I could feel his eyes on me. I could feel enticing smell of his body in the room. I could feel movement of his fingers on his hair as mischievous cold breeze tried to ruffle them. I felt envy of the wind! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I knew he wouldn't be there for long. One part of me wanted to hold him there forever, wanted to feel warmth of his lips. While on the other front, I was afraid to surrender. I knew if I chose to take a step forward there will be no coming back for me ever. I always waited for the one who would come with his magic wind to wake me up from my endless dream. But destiny sent <i style="mso-bidi-font-style:normal">him</i> for me. I was afraid this was not my fairy tale. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every time he looked at me, my heart froze. Every time he came close, I could not help but ask for more. With him around, time stopped running for me. There was something in his eyes which compelled me to follow my heart without thinking about the consequences. There was something about him which I could feel was forbidden for me. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Sun was about to rise. I could feel his dilemma. I wanted to jump from the bed, stop every possible ray of light to reach him to make him stay longer. But he had to go. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to get over of my fear for once & said aloud, ‘<i>I want to be destroyed in your love</i>’! </p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-60778699693724554322009-11-30T07:31:00.000-08:002009-11-30T07:36:11.239-08:00Long Live 'Bandh'<p class="MsoNormal">There is a feasible way available these days for political parties to show off their dominance over am janata… the way is quite simple, first they need to randomly select one of the burning contemporary issues, then call a ‘strike’ & on the D day harass as much people as they can to show off muscle power…and the popularity of that political party can be measured by the amount of dread they spread amongst their potential voters at the end of the ‘successful bandh’. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">And you think only Rakhi Sawant is craving for publicity, eh? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">They say it’s for ‘US’! They are concerned about you & me…they are worried about our pocket which is affected by the ongoing price hike…they are concerned about our future…that’s why they are not ashamed of harassing people who dare to come out of their houses to reach their places of work for their living…they aren’t ashamed of holding back a doctor from attending his dying patient at the operation theatre…and yes they are our <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">leaders</i>!! </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If you & I can successfully go to work without fear, on the ‘Unofficial Holidays of India’ then that’s certainly a matter of disgrace for the political parties. Rather we should show our respect to the political goons by staying home on weekdays…forget about our right to work and forget about those people who work on daily wage basis… they can surely adjust one or more days in a month without their share of meal…after all these strikes are for our prosperity! </p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-26185234380019798762009-11-22T01:30:00.000-08:002009-11-22T01:44:20.473-08:00Democracy under threat<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/SwkHznTfdAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZHRgUvdKQjc/s1600/10081.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 318px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/SwkHznTfdAI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/ZHRgUvdKQjc/s320/10081.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406861410940449794" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span></span></div><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b>In author’s words ‘It’s the best of times. It’s the worst of times’…on one front </b></span></span><st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b>India</b></span></span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b> is emerging as unyielding economy, playing its own card in international forums, becoming potential player in world power game; while other side of the picture is sheer disgraceful. Time and again different political parties took up charge (if not for our development) to gag media, if any channel or newspaper dares to criticize their acts. IBN Lokmat office in Mumbai & Pune was not the first instance where journalists had to face vandalism…history says media has always been the soft target. </b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b> </b></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b>The country which is widening its horizon by giving acquiescence to transsexuals, where civil society becomes vocal after Mumbai terror attack & shown remarkable protest against the authority, incidents like this where political goons attack media personnel, denuded internal incompetence of political structure of India. Several times before IBN incident media has been attacked…why Govt. has not taken any stern steps? How can the political thugs just enter into an office & destroy everything? Where was the police? </b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b> </b></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b>You might play the same old card by proclaiming that media sensationalize issues, media doesn’t play neutral game and so on…I say, you need to hold on there. If I take side of any political party, if I give hype to any issues for commercial gain…does that empower you to stifle my voice? </b></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b> </b></span></span></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#993399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><b>We can’t question the authority, we can’t criticize any political party, we can’t do our job and we can’t ask for security…no matter what ever is written in our constitution regarding freedom of speech & expression, if we are in media…sorry, we are not allowed to use our constitutional rights. Right?? </b></span></span></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-8451505210406969602009-11-06T02:26:00.000-08:002009-11-17T21:17:44.557-08:00somnambulism...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/SvP6OAESIfI/AAAAAAAAADg/f8nkfG3V9-A/s1600-h/1334562-2-in-my-dreams.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/SvP6OAESIfI/AAAAAAAAADg/f8nkfG3V9-A/s320/1334562-2-in-my-dreams.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400935496590434802" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px; "><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Do you believe in fairy tales? Do you believe when life will get tougher, everything will get out of control, when you will find yourself confined into a room full of gloom; someone will come to show you the way?<br /></span></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br />Do you believe you are Pretty Woman Vivian (Julia Roberts) who is waiting for her Richard Gere? As we grow up & entangled into the complexities of real world, fairy tales take a back seat…it’s hard for prisoners of 21</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">st </span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">century’s who are surrounded by walls of ferocity, treachery and aversion, to wait for a light of hope at the end of the tunnel…when devil takes charge of the world, dewfall replaced by volcanic eruption, anticipation for the prince with magic wind becomes mere farcical. </span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /><br />But there is a girl I know…who loves to believe her prince will come at the end of the world to fight with all sinister power and rescue her. Many times she has been mistaken her savior with demon in disguise…who shattered her dreams, her pride, her principles, her respect…love makes her bleed every time…but she still hopes for someone who will remove every obstacle in her way, who will make all her dreams come true…who will embrace her, who will give her a kiss to heal. So what if the devil up there is actually in charge of the steering wheel of life…she is reluctant to leave her dreamland. She hides her hopes underneath her arrogance, she hides her love underneath her hoarseness, she hides her fragility underneath her egotism…and like a caterpillar, she is waiting for someone who will help her to spread her wings to fly high up to the sky, behind the stars in a land called her own ‘fantasy land’!</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></span><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span></span></span></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br />Just to clarify, the girl is not insane…she is as real as we are…perhaps we all have someone like her deep down in our heart…who loves to believe life is nothing but a fairy tale. No matter how sensible, practical, strong we are…we all want to be the Cinderella in the end!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-top: 0in; margin-right: 0in; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-left: 0in; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;"><br /></span></span> </p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></span><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;">Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true</span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><br /></span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;">Deep down inside we want to believe they still do</span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><br /></span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;">In our secretest heart, it's our favourite part of the story</span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;"><br /></span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;">Let's just admit we all want to make it too</span></span></span></strong><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#6633FF;">….(by Carrie Underwood)</span></span></span></strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span style=" ;font-family:Arial;"></span></span><span style=" ;font-family:Arial;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> </span></span></span></span><p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-16695617049662860842009-10-14T11:45:00.000-07:002009-10-17T00:43:21.939-07:00When Hell Broke Loose...<p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;color:#444444;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" line-height: 17px;font-size:small;"></span></span></p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Arial;color:#444444;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:12.75pt"><b></b></p><b><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow";color:#444444"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">A good degree in mass communication, professional integrity, press identity card are not enough to let you to use your constitutional rights to deliver news to the audience by using the public medium…at least when you are in a state like West Bengal, where a political leader called a reporter ‘Supary Killer’, where journalists of one particular news channel are not allowed to enter in any conference of that specific political party.<br /><br />How these power hungry political folks can raise questions on journalistic ethics when they cannot be bothered to fulfill their roles as the nation’s leaders? The people who are not capable to fit the bill of politics as far as ideology is concerned, are here to restrict journalists from doing their job of collecting and delivering news!<br />News channels are not public service medium as it was in the pre independence days… audience of these mediums these days are educated enough to build up their own opinion. Channels aren’t charitable medium… their job is to provide news that are factually correct with their own interpretation & we are all well aware of this…people are exposed to a holy good number of print & electronics medium to gather news about the world, but the opinions they build up are more influenced by primary & secondary groups rather than media. No news media is politically unbiased these days…there can’t be any disagreement on that, but what they deliver are the ‘factually correct information’…and no individual or organization is empowered to restrict the flow of news under any circumstances. </span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:12.75pt"><span class="apple-style-span"><b><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow"; color:#444444"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br />My message to these politicians is: journalists are neither paid by you nor they are compelled to act as your personal assistants who are supposed to always speak in your favour…if you claim that news media are not neutral these days then you are the one who are responsible for this.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow""><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span style="font-family:"Arial Narrow""><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p></b><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight:normal"><o:p> </o:p></b></p></span><p></p><p></p><p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-14850471433637272152009-08-15T10:50:00.000-07:002009-08-15T10:57:40.395-07:00Surname under the scanner...<p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black">I have never started an independence day in my life with so much feeling of fury. Its humiliating, its disgusting…how can they detain SRK for 2 hours on the ground of his last name? In a country where its own weekly magazine News week named him one of the most 50 powerful people of the world, suddenly totally forgot the global icon? We have enough of this Americanish security system…we know how important is this to maintain the protocols, but their Govt. should realize where to put the full stop! You just cannot put a whole religion behind the bars because of some particular religious groups. How in humanitarian is this? A personality like Shahrukh Khan <span class="apple-style-span">who was honoured with an honorary doctorate in arts and culture from <st1:country-region st="on">Britain</st1:country-region>'s</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> University of Bedfordshire,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="apple-style-span">has been </span>detained for questioning, is something shocking for every Indian over the nation. Let’s forget about SRK’s star status…the whole thing still would be disgusting for every Indian. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black">I totally agree with our honorable I & B minister Ambika Soni who thinks we should treat Americans with their own medicine. No country should be given any right to frisk any body just on the basis of his religion. And look at the irony…SRK’s upcoming film which is already much in news because of the shahrukh, kajol & Kjo trio…is a joint venture of star India & ‘<span class="apple-style-span">Twentieth Century Fox</span>’ which is interestingly a major American film studio & the more fascinating fact is, the film is on a Muslim & his journey across America!! Hmm…I think Karan Johar should prepare a special promotional plan for the film in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">USA</st1:place></st1:country-region>, with SRK’s detail CV & character certificate…what say? If they can detain a person on the ground of his last name…here the title of the film contains ‘Khan’…I wonder what will be their reaction to the entire film? <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="color:black">On 62<sup>nd </sup></span></span><span style="color:black">Independence Day such disgraceful incident shows the existence of racism. It’s utterly shameful. <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I’m all about security system, I’m all about protocols & I understand how much important is all these to combat any terror attack but it’s not at all permissible to harass a person just on the basis on his religion. <o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color:black"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p><p></p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-42719609074321839252009-07-03T03:48:00.001-07:002009-07-04T00:38:04.865-07:00conquest of love<pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style="Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">No matter what they call us<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">However they attack<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">No matter where they take us<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">We'll find our own way back<o:p></o:p></span></pre> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">And they have found their way back. Now they don’t have to be scared to hold the hand they love…they don’t have to be afraid to touch the lips they can die for…they don’t have to be worried to articulate their love in front of the whole world…they don’t have to be afraid to yell their hearts out to say that they love somebody of the same sex! Now no one can categorize them as mentally retarded…now they don’t have to go through humiliation…they don’t have to be categorize as ‘abnormal’. A taboo has been created in the society about homosexuality…which still goes on. In fact I personally don’t think recent Delhi High Court’s judgment can entirely change that. A section of sanctimonious people proclaim homosexuality as impious & section 377 of Indian Penal Code gives fuel to their belief, which is no longer in action after yesterday’s judgment. But it needs more than just legal right to change perception of people regarding gay community.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">But a legal right can change to some extent the whole picture of hypocrisy in the society…where a man involves at feticides at the same time he screams for Indian ethos. If they say Indian scriptures hinder us to love a person of same sex then is it justifies their act to prove their supremacy? It’s high time to realize that to love & to be loved by the person I dream of is the principal right of every person of the nation. </p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify">For me…there is only one way to meet the god…that is through the way of ‘Love’. And no scripture, no narrow minded hypocrite, no deceiver preceptor, and no court of law can encumber two souls to meet… high court’s judgment proves again that love knows no barrier…it can erode every obstruction that comes in the way…</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align:justify"><o:p> </o:p></p> <pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style="Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">If only tears were laughter<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">If only night was day<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">If only prayers were answered<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">Then we would hear God say<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;"><o:p> </o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">No matter what they tell you<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">No matter what they do<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">No matter what they teach you<o:p></o:p></span></pre><pre style="margin-bottom:7.5pt;text-align:justify"><span style=" Comic Sans MS";font-family:";font-size:10.5pt;color:midnightblue;">What you believe is true<o:p></o:p></span></pre>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-25221524734005253212009-06-28T03:12:00.000-07:002009-06-28T03:14:58.776-07:00A boon or an imprecation?<p class="MsoNormal">We are planning to upgrade ourselves to the standard of developed nations…stupefied?? <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Don’t be! No…we are not making any modern centralized security force; neither is we making any special commission to fight terrorist activities in domestic arena. We are instead planning to develop our education system by scraping the 10<sup>th</sup> board exam…thanks to honorable minister Kapil Sibal. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">There is no need to increase the sluggish 1.5% literacy rate in India, there is no need to ensure daily livelihood for the children live below poverty line to enable them to access education, there is no need to reinforce Sarva Sikhshya Aviyan…but we need to remove board exam in 10<sup>th</sup> standard to reduce hassle of the children & parents. I agree that talent & knowledge can’t be evaluated on the basis of examinations; there could be new possible assessment process like other developed nations. But at a time when outflow of knowledge has been positioned as one of the most critical problem in <st1:place st="on"><st1:country-region st="on">India</st1:country-region></st1:place>, we should take up some stringent measures to upgrade the whole education structure of the nation. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every year the immense difference of overall result in 10<sup>th</sup> & 12<sup>th</sup> board exam prove beyond doubt the disparity of evaluation structure of different boards. Every year number of student flies out of <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">India</st1:place></st1:country-region> & become green card holder to serve the developed nations, only because here they can’t get good returns of their investments! Can all these trends be stopped by removing exam in 10<sup>th</sup> grade? </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But at the same time examinations phobia of children should be removed. I believe some new assessment procedures should be introduced, but before that we need to make sure that it won’t decrease qualitative quotient of the future builders of the country. Moreover, there are many other problems related to education system that need to be addressed. Why don’t administration lay importance on that? </p>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-90952772334460169382009-05-17T01:48:00.000-07:002009-05-17T02:00:38.959-07:00Jai Ho!!The Election Gala is over…all blame game, criticism, pre result shudder came to an end only to mark the beginning of epoch making power play. For the first time the city of joy has seen sky to be covered with green flag of triumph instead of red! After series of advertisements, now it’s the time to 'Disco' for some while for other so called strong players it’s the time to 'Khisko'!! Despite of series of political dexterity, strife, coalition in & coalition out for the first time in the political history of Bengal, the so called opposition party successfully crossed 15 numbers!<br /><br />The magic numbers has shown that people of Bengal certainly want a severe change…a change in employment opportunity, a change in education system & most importantly a change in governance. I personally revere our present CM Buddhadeb Bhattacharya a lot, but somehow it seems in the past few years that he is unable to deal with the pressure of Alimuddin Street! Although it is equally true that I strongly believe at present we don’t have any one better than Mr. Bhattacharya to fit in the chair of CM. But then do we really want to see someone as the head of our state who was unable to stop cadres to enter in Nandigram which resulted in the death of hundreds people? Mind you, I’m not giving any allegation to our honorable CM, it was the confession made by one senior leader of the left party on a well known regional TV news channel.<br /><br />Some says it’s the victory of ‘Maa, Mati, Manush’ while other says it will hinder the growth of industrial development in Bengal…but we say, let the time speaks!<br /><br />However most importantly, I’m personally happy & satisfied with the victory of UPA Govt. We actually don’t have any other better candidate than Dr. Manmohan Singh, who is apt for the diadem of PM. In a country which can better be recognized as prime ministerial form of Govt. we definitely would not like to see someone at the power who takes decisions on the basis of cast & religion.<br /><br />Some of my friends have told me that Dr. Singh is not stern enough to take right decisions at the right time & some said he is nothing but an obedient follower of Sonia Gandhi. I believe this is somehow oversimplification of the whole convoluted political game. In a coalition Govt. you can’t expect him to take decision all alone, where he has to be skilled enough to harmonize between the allies. One wrong move & his Govt. will fall down! Now guys, what do you need, a permanent Central Govt. or a predominant PM?<br /><br />Over all the entire poll result shows lack of faith on some old, experienced players & gaining trust on those who inspire youth & play politics without any cast or religious prejudice! Hopefully, the magic figures will be able to bring forth some positive changes in Indian economy & politics.<br /><br />Fingers crossed!!ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-6426915782901752822009-05-10T07:41:00.000-07:002009-05-10T07:48:55.101-07:00Love you Maa...<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/Sgbofwzi1gI/AAAAAAAAACI/Nxrpy3FFEqg/s1600-h/IMG_0589.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334206441041614338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 252px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gDYUs1rBXzU/Sgbofwzi1gI/AAAAAAAAACI/Nxrpy3FFEqg/s320/IMG_0589.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>10th May…for me its not another day on the calendar…it’s a day to thank the person who is most important to me…its the day to say how special the person is for me…it’s the day to show how much I care…it’s the day to tell her ‘I love you’! She is always with me in good & bad. We cry together…we laugh together. She is there all the time to hold me tight. At times when I screwed up with life, it was she who stood by me. When I fall ill it is she who says, ‘don’t worry I’m with you’. When I burst out with anger, fear or frustration it is she who endure all my perturbation. When I’m hurt by loved ones it is only she who can read my mind.<br /><br />She is the only person who wants to guard me from all evil powers of the world…for her I will never grow up. She feels proud with my triumph, she feels miserable with my breakdown. With time we have become best of friends…to discuss about relationships & even MEN!<br /><br />She is my guardian, my mentor, my pal, my guide…she is my mom! The most caring, lovable, protective…the best mom of the world! It was she for whom I managed to fight back when there was no reason left for me to dream or to hope. It was because of her I learned that it doesn’t matter if you fall, what matter is how you stand up after falling. She is truly my reason to live! Anybody can turn me down, anybody can leave me alone, anybody can hurt me… but I know Maa, you will always be there for me! I may never be able to say you this face to face (you know my ego problem)…but I’m sorry…sorry for whatever you had to face for me few years back…sorry for whatever you had to pay because of my mistakes…sorry I lied…sorry I messed up. I know you will forgive me sooner or later…because if nobody else, only you know how much I’m putting my efforts to make everything perfect for us.<br /><br />Happy Mother’s Day!!</div>ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-75232481275335807832009-05-08T22:19:00.000-07:002009-05-08T22:22:06.584-07:00Revival of patriotism" Jana gana mana rann hai. Is rann mein zakhmi hua hai Bharat ka bhaagya vidhaata"…have you heard the lyrics before? No? This is the reinterpreted version of our national hymn done by RGV for his new film ‘Rann’!! Bewildered? Aareh…our film makers are very concerned about the ongoing ‘bad situation’ on present day India baba! Why you people can’t take everything sportingly? Look at the lyrics; how thoughtfully it reflects our torment against the contemporary situation of the nation…more touching than the original version made by Tagore, isn’t it? RGV’s in depth research is palpable from this one song in the promo of Rann, thanks to 26/11 Mumbai attack! <br /><br />The man has once again proved with this reinterpreted version of national anthem that he doesn’t make mindless movies, please! Look at the intensity, look at the dormant meaning of each new word he inserted in the anthem for good…we should be proud of him! But I don’t understand why some cynical journalists are creating controversy over this issue? Do we really care about our national anthem? How many of us even bother to stand up in the respect of ‘Jana gana mana’ at different occasions? Today’s children are more aware of USA or Australia’s anthem instead of their own…it’s not trendy after all! At least, Verma is making the anthem more popular! For a realistic film maker like him, this ‘remake’ anthem could provide a more ‘real’ touch to the movie.<br /><br />On a more serious note, the newly inserted lyrics are true to some extent in the present situation of India…but nobody has any ‘moral right’ to reinterpret the anthem made by Rabindra Nath Tagore for any purpose. There are many other ways to put forward your opinion on contemporary issues, but using national anthem for sheer commercial purpose is unethical in every sense. Legally may be we are allowed to reinterpret the song of praise, but we should be guided by moral police in such sensitive matter.<br /><br />I pity RGV! No body is going to watch his film any way…hopefully he can earn the profit through his share of controversy!ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-21280878043000464482009-05-01T07:42:00.000-07:002009-05-01T09:58:02.192-07:00An AppealBloodshed, affray, mud slinging…something will never change in west Bengal. Year after year it’s the same story. Today is the third phase of election in Bengal & as expected this years voting picture is all same (even more spiteful). But Why? My question is why can’t we vote for somebody of our choice? Why can’t we vote freely? Why there is always a halo of trepidation hangs over our head to vote for the symbol we like? <br /><br />It’s intolerable to see these two big cats sizing each other every time in Bengal. These things need to come to an end. How much will we gonna take? We need something gigantic this time…big enough to rejuvenate our dying hope. This year at last I managed to get my voter id card & this is the first year I will vote. But believe me I’m a bit scared…scared to go oppose of the ruling party of my local area. I mean, it’s easy to put forward your thoughts & opinions in blogs but when it comes to real action you have to think about many other consequences.<br /><br /> I want a change in my city…a change in my state…a change in my country. A change doesn’t necessarily mean supporting a political party over another, that’s sheer political issue & I’m not interested to get myself involved into this prattle (believe me I’m not very good in that either). What I need is a change in the whole system…& a system includes all of us…you, me & our surrounding. If we can’t change ourselves we won’t be able to build a better future for us…for our family. When there is any bomb blast, people die…we suddenly become over active in both of our words & actions…we protest, we accuse…& then we forget, we compromise! Year after year same picture, same story, same tradition. We say 'is desh ka kuch nahin hoga' & we escape. Either we vote for a symbol we don’t support or even better we ‘don’t’ vote. This is what we do & then at time of crisis we put all our blame on the people in power. <br /><br />How cliché it may sound but it’s only ‘us’ who can bring a change in the country. If you take the first step the crowd will follow you. I’ll try to get over with my fear & will vote for the party I support whatever consequence it may bring because no one can stop me to use my franchise power…what will you gonna do?ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-41191870288746537822009-03-27T09:17:00.001-07:002009-03-27T09:17:52.126-07:00Hard Reality...A gigantic amount of data says due to increasing privatization of higher education, academic institutes in India have been experiencing increasing ragging excesses. The effectiveness of the ‘ban’ declared by the Govt. on ragging in many IITs appears clear on the campuses & hostels. In fact the latest heart rending death of Aman Kachroo, a 19 years old student of Dr. Rajendra Prasad Medical College in brain hemorrhage due to brutal ragging has aroused a big question mark on the effectiveness of the ‘ban’ on ragging. <br /><br />Despite the series of justifications given by many students in favor of ragging, such as ‘a way to build friendly relation between seniors & juniors’, indubitably it’s the most filthy side of modern education system. Campaigns by several human activists & establishments of anti ragging cells seemed to have no real impact on the practice of ragging in technical institutions. <br /><br />But aren’t the junior students equally responsible to let the grubby game to exist in the college campus? It takes the back bone to rise up against impropriety & raise your voice high for own rights. This is awful to see how these students had embraced death in ragging. It’s the high time to stop the ongoing. If your parents can invest big amount of money for your career, can’t you invest little bit of guts to fulfill their dreams? <br /><br />Come… hold hands & voice against ragging…ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3453752509621985214.post-39285462062705558412009-03-24T10:05:00.000-07:002009-03-24T10:10:50.911-07:00The vigor of NanoSomeone has rightly said, ‘somebody’s lose is somebody’s gain’. At present this holds utterly true in case of West Bengal, when Tata’s Nano is all ready to hit the road! No one can ever forget the mayhem we went through months ago regarding Nano project in Singur…processions, strikes, death, redundancy which led to the materialization of more gooey politics in Bengal. And now, at last Nano is all set as the lowest price car of the nation (though it has been said that the price 1 lakh is for the first 1 lakh buyers only!!). <br /><br />We all remember the prolific contribution of the opposition party in the amputation of the small car industry from Singur…but can you disagree that our respectable CM was also responsible to some extent to let that happen? The very confrontation in Bengal has shown the reality; that in spite of the constitutional rule Buddhadeb Bhattacharya seemed to impound himself within the Alimuddin Street. A state where it’s CM first think for the party & then for the people… unemployment is obligatory. Why Bhattacharya didn’t rise up & let the development process to persist? But what so ever it was…we lost the opportunity & that’s what matters the most!<br /><br />But if you really think…it’s the end of the story…then let me tell you, picture abhi baki hain mere dost! It was the Nano project for which our own Mamata Di has engaged herself doggedly in image makeover. The lady who once said that she wont let the campaign procedure to weigh down because of the Board Exams…now has become receptive about sight pollution (source: few days back we get to know that she instructed her party members to erase wall graffiti from the walls if the owner of the house found to diverge with it!). In fact after her victory in Nandigram, in order to win the hearts of the urban mass she is trying to change the very anti developmental image of her. And now again that is the trump card of the left parties to win over Ms Banerjee!<br /> <br />They say, ‘Don’t go with the size’…the smallest car can be powerful enough to change the destiny of Bengal politics. Let’s wait & watch…ankita banerjihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01942489850826678537noreply@blogger.com0