ANALOG INDIA

Two friends, Anik and Barnak are writing in class whilst
talking in whispers.

ANIK
Seen Sacred Games yet?

BARNAK
What?

Anik stops writing. Looks at Barnak in disgust.

ANIK
Oh yes, I forgot, Doordarshan is
more of a comfort zone for you!

BARNAK
I told you, man… I’m not into all
these–

ANIK
What else do you do but cram stupid
notes all day?

BARNAK
It’s called self-study fool, ever
done that?

ANIK
Ever done that without books?

BARNAK
I don’t really prefer manuscripts,
thank you!

ANIK
You’re undoubtedly the worst
comedian I have ever heard of!

BARNAK
But you have heard of me…

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ANIK
So you do watch movies?

BARNAK
Occasionally.

ANIK
Talking of books, you can get loads
of that on the internet which you
can’t even dream of getting in the
market, what do you say to that,
Homo-habilis?

BARNAK
I don’t know if your updated mind
has come across this term, but we
laymen use a thing called the
‘li-bra-ry’, ever heard of it?

ANIK
Seriously? A library? You’re funny!
You think one library can match the
entire online database?

BARNAK
Maybe it can’t, but, if you had
been to one, you’d understand that
a library is more than–

Anik tries to cut in, Barnak gestures him not to interrupt.

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Just a storehouse of books, it’s a
place of meditation as well, which
offers tranquillity and
concentration! Tell me which of
your ‘websites’ does that?

ANIK
Libraries are currently doing one
thing, and that is digitisation!
Try and access Jstor sometime!

Barnak nods his head in acknowledgement and carries on
writing.

ANIK
Let alone all the web series’,
chuck them, they are just for
entertainment. But, don’t tell
me, the lectures and videos aren’t
helpful. They are done by the best
in the world. Admit it, you also
watch them.

BARNAK
I prefer a hands-on discussion with
my teachers, thank you very much.
Can your ‘best in the world’ give
you that?

ANIK
But you can at least check them out
Gestures at the blackboard
The one of differential calculus
was awesome, just awesome! I sent
you the link, you probably haven’t
even bothered to check it out.

BARNAK
Can’t take these–

Gestures at the blackboard

Down properly, and here you are
talking about more stuff. Pfft!

ANIK
As I said, they aid in your
understanding only–

BARNAK
As I also said, my home teachers
are perfectly capable of that!

ANIK
When did I say they are not? Come
on! E-learning is in demand bro!
They even offer certificates on
completing courses!

BARNAK
Nowadays they give certificates for
everything– someday I’ll hear
mothers handing out certificates to
their children for successfully
bringing dhania from the market!

ANIK
You’re tedious!

BARNAK
The point is, we’re ultimately
gonna toil night and day in some
corporate firm, so, what’s the
point of all this anyway?

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At this point, Anik comes out of character, breaks the fourth
wall and directly talks to the audience as an ad-hoc narrator
of sorts. Light focuses on Anik as Barnak is not seen.

ANIK
Eventually, after some more witty
repartee with Barnak, the bell rang
to mark the end of the tiring maths
class. Immediately, Barnak gets
called by, Shruti, another
classmate of ours, to solve- what
she calls- an ‘IIT level’ Maths
problem. For Barnak, this sounded
like a call for the show valour and
chivalry. He puffed his chests out
and went to rescue his damsel in
distress. It all looked very much
like a page from Walter Scott.
After a few moments, a dejected
Barnak quietly returned to the
seat, it is evident that he has
lost the battle of sexes. Not only
was he unable to solve the problem,
but Nayanika did it for him.
Shame…Shame…Shame…

Anik goes back into character as the lights now show both of
them.

BARNAK
Eh, Anik, umm, could you send me
those links today evening?

ANIK
Oh, there are loads, I have to
search for them…

BARNAK
Please man…

ANIK
Won’t be possible today evening, in
the night perhaps?

BARNAK
Are you busy this evening?

ANIK
Yes, have Roshni ma’am’s tuition.

fin

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Finding the Calling

A play of sorts in one act

Narrator: Ladies and gentlemen, attention please, A red digital clock at Howrah station platform no.3 showed 4:29; the diabolical figure resonated through his mind, as missing the 4:30 local….oh the horror! He dragged his over-exhausted right leg amidst the sea of people and managed to somehow scamper into the much dreaded first compartment.

Boy: Phew! That was so close!

Narrator: His momentary inflated ego was crushed immediately by a nonchalant hawker who shrugged him off as if he wasn’t there.

Boy: Heyy! Can’t you see me? Huh?

Narrator: No brother, you’re John Cena. (pause) Just as he had managed a decent standing place, saw something very odd lurking in a general compartment, (bold sarcastic voice) two young ladies (yay!).

Boy: Oh crap! She is looking at me!

Girl1: Umm…will the train stop at konnagar?

Boy (blabbering): Well! The train, madam, stops at every station but you know, the journey never ends.

Just like love, it goes on and on and on…

Girl1: stupid! (aside)

Boy: (to the audience)

Forget trains!

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in love, must say yes to everything at first. And…I think…yes, I am in Love.

Narrator: She was not the one for the poets and it was exactly that which made everything so poetic.

Girl1 (to Girl2): Why is he being so weird?

Girl2 (smiles while looking at the boy through the corner of her eye; speaks distractedly): What do YOU think? … well, you should know!

Girl1: NO, I mean..umm …wait! What do you mean by that?

Girl2: Ummm… nothing.. well, I prefer speaking in innuendoes you know!

Girl1: INNUENDOES???   Ughhh!! You and your “MILLS AND BOONS”!

Narrator: The switch my friend is ON!

Girl1: No INNUENDOS and for your kind information No Love Story here..

Girl2: By the way… When did I say it’s a LOVE story? Huh?

Boy (sudden excitement and despair): Oh GOD! I can’t find my phone! (to Girl1; panting) Excuse me! Can you please give me a missed call?

Girl2(whispers): Ahem! Ahem! Divine intervention you see…

Boy: Well, yeah… I do understand it’s awkward for you, please help me out here…

Girl1: Why do you think brother I will help you? Do you think I’m a nun in some Cathedral ready to help everyone?

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Boy (whispers): What! Brother!
(aloud): Okay, sorry to brother you… I mean to bother you… wait! Why should I be sorry? A nun is never bothered anyway. After all, she’s the harbinger of love.

Girl2: Whoa!.. is something on fire? Or someone diss-appointed?

Narrator: On hitting call after moments of reluctant dialling… the compartment was instantly graced by the tunes of “Can’t Help falling in Love”, thanks to the Chinese speakers! (pause) After few moments of rampant rummaging, our boy discovers his device, lying below a seat and picks up in the blink of an eye.

Boy: Thanks… (whispers) It is truly said that one can never predict them… (pause) Okay, sorry, don’t mind…

Narrator: She smiles away with her friend on another side of the compartment; leaving the boy red-faced. Thank god for the climax, that was one intensely boring narration! So, ladies and gentlemen, that was our—-

Girl2 (interrupts the narrator): Hey, narrator! You didn’t tell the full story?

Narrator: What story? My script ends here!

*gestures “she is crazy” to the audience*

Girl2 (to the audience; *Girl1 and Boy high-fives*): Allow me to finish it then, and take you all into the future (points at Girl1 while she hides her face)you know “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.” Well, what started as a mutual admiration laced with scorn has ended with the two smiling.

Narrator: What are you talking about?

Girl2: Can’t you see the mutual glimmer in their eyes? The glimmer of happiness

Narrator: Happiness! A thing which started as an act of incivility has culminated otherwise? Really!

Boy: See sometimes even a simple start can…

Girl1: …lead to a story!

Boy: (to the audience):

Well, everything said and done,

I hope you had much fun;

I would now like to conclude by saying this—

So as to leave you all in bliss:

You might as now well think, that I had kept the phone there on purpose…..

Well….. Did I?

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-FIN-

 

This was performed as a closet drama by the SA Jaipuria team at Shri Shikshayatan College.

It is inspired by Com Partment:  https://thepenarchist.wordpress.com/2017/08/23/com-partment/

, originally written by Samya Brata Roy.

However, it was adapted for the performance by a lot of people:

Samya Brata Roy

Srija Chakraborty

Susmita Roy Chaudhuri

Shreya Banerjee

Chandrani Sanyal

and last but not the least

Mr Bimal Chakraborty or as we lovingly call him Bimal sir.

We enjoyed working on it so much that we even plan to release a video of it in the near future.

image courtesies

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https://goo.gl/pC4jU7

 

 

 

 

 

 

Com partment.

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A red digital clock at Howrah station platform no.3 showed 4:29; the diabolical figure resonated through my mind as missing the 4:30 local would surely have been fatal. I dragged my over-exhausted right leg amidst the sea of people and managed to somehow scamper into the much dreaded first compartment. My momentary inflated ego was crushed immediately by a nonchalant “Murshidabad er gamcha” seller who shrugged me off by a very courteous “dada shorun”. Just as I had managed a decent standing place, I saw something very odd lurking in a general local train compartment, a young lady (yay!).

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As fate might have had it, she was directly looking at me(now that doesn’t happen), only to ask me if the train would stop at Konnagar (such a romance killer). A nod came in reflex.

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She was not the one for the poets and it was exactly that which made everything so poetic.

The tired train moved with a grunt and slacked like a baby to school. She couldn’t find the perfect posture in the overcrowded compartment and kept turning; new to “daily passenger-i” I thought. With every turn, it seemed she stole one glance here and another glance there as if it opened up different facets to her.

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I, the skilled playboy that I am, remained silent and observed the proceedings in awe. Her protruding rucksack hit me sometimes as a reminder from my inner Barney Stinson to start up a conversation. I did, in my head of course as the hawker raved on about his “quality cotton maal” in the background.

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I don’t know if it was fact or fiction, but after a few moments, I saw her conversing with another guy. A flurry of emotions wrapped around my brain as if to make folly out of my failures. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry.

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There was nothing romantic, or there was I don’t know! But at that very moment, I realised what could have been! There are so many people, we don’t know, who could have been so much more, if only…

I didn’t know if she knew him or she did not (please be the former), honestly I don’t care! She was all smiles and so was he.

Is this a tale of love lost or stalking gained I don’t know. But what I do know is that trillion tales have been told of this style but very few are actually experienced.

Everything it seems stopped that day, for them, for me; except the train, which wasn’t supposed to stop at Konnagar (which I remembered after getting down at Bally).

What have I done! What have I done! What have I done!

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Commonly Uncommon

We have a man with us today, a common man, just like you and I; but, today he made a fatal mistake: he entered a Modern Art Gallery.

I didn’t know how he committed that howler, till he told me just now. It seems that his mind had plunged into the great depths of depression. I should not make fun out the follies and failures of my subjects but this incident was something a little too special to keep it from sharing it with y’all.

A storm was brewing, so the layman sought refuge under a grey canopy. Some five minutes later he was caught off guard as few uninvited droplets embraced his cheeks like a pin on a cushion. Betrayed by the shed, he decided to move and that is when he noticed a glimmer at the corner of his eyes. He rolled them eyeballs to look at a sign in subtle blinking neon: “Musée des Beaux Arts”.

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He looked in awe, not at the sign, but trying to imagine the possible pronunciations of the foreign script which seemed like English. And then the unthinkable happened; to the incredible incomprehension of the old gods and new, he, the ordinary man decided to step foot inside the hallowed grounds of the modern art museum.

The security guard looked at him with a solemn brow and cheeks pale to the very lips as if to say: “What on the seven continents are you doing here?”

But he ignored all the possible omens and with a denim reminding his passersby about what he had last night, a shirt too tight and a misspelt Starbucks cup, he entered the infamous place.

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He felt like the only sane person in an asylum as the glances from all possible directions were shot at him as if he was a platter of delicious meat waiting to be fed to hungry lions.

With trembling limbs and a wearing, a shawl of naivety he proceeded in his business but the tragedy was that he didn’t know what it was.

The strangest of objects surrounded him and it was supposed to be art for it had classy Italian names.

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From empty frames, 3-D burgers to random stones behind glass panels everything was supposed to be a piece of modern art.

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Moving on from every piece to another, it seemed to the innocent man that his life was flashing before his eyes and questioning every decision that he has ever made.

With every piece of art came a connoisseur, upon whom the gods had bestowed the duty to evaluate true art whose knowledge they get from the back covers of the reputed books. They are obviously rich, otherwise, how can you appreciate art? Have customary long and unkempt beards, resembling the forlorn lovers of Shakespeare and wear the trousers which surely were an heirloom. The half moon Dumbledor-ish glasses certainly add to their expertise. The long flowing ethnic top wear with gibberish decor fits right into place.

One such species was explaining a rather curious piece of art: a pair of glasses which were lying on a stand just beside the washroom. Our man edged closer to his heart on his hands and listened with intent at the random throws of a little Derrida here and a little Foucault there.

Then, the unthinkable happened, an old man stepped out of the washroom and was taken aback by the humdrum near the glasses, then he lowered his hat, wore ‘his’ glasses and left at once.

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The world stopped rotating, everyone’s hearts skipped a beat, no one looked at one another, they all ran in other directions and started to sob. The common man stood still, his nouveau knowledge about the -“isms” and its appreciations went for a toss, he ran outside and screamed and kept running till he reached here.

-A CYNICAL GOBBLEDYGOOKER

Inspired by true events: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2016/may/27/pair-of-glasses-left-on-us-gallery-floor-mistaken-for-art

Source of Images:

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KYA MOCAMBO KHUSH HUA?

“While in the merry month of September from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
Bought a pair of brogues rattling o’er the bogs
And fright’ning all the dogs on the rocky road to MOCAMBO.”

-SAID THE DRIVER OF DILSHAN HEMNANI after being ousted from the “so called” posh diner on Park Street. The poor chauffeur was “supposedly” shabbily dressed as marked by the officials of the personal biscuit makers of Queen Elizabeth.

This man was denied entry to this restaurant because of his dress and inability to speak English.

Really?

These are the people who watch nothing but Set Max on Sooryavansham (you read that right) at night while having Rajma Chawal and behave like Colin Firth in Kingsman the next morning.

They must take some kind some kind of pills (remember Matrix?) in between to undergo such a drastic change in such a short period of time.

BLIMEY!

Even if the dress makes a tiny bit of sense, the fact that inability of speaking English is actually taken into consideration is just mind-blowing!

I feel like barging into that place, hold a knife at some guy’s throat and ask about the difference between “your” and “you’re”!

How can this be a thing in a third world country like ours!

Look at Germany, Russia, China… they use their own language and just look at their development!!

Then there’s us who await the premier of “Mem Bou” in Star Jalsha.

No wonder they wanted “Dugna Lagan”!

For the sake of the conspiracy theorists, let’s consider the stuff on social media to be true!

The Restaurant Page has allegedly stated that the people who use the vernaculars are either uneducated or belongs from a backward society….

I won’t say much about this but this is why Suarez bites people and Ranjit Mullick calls Koel for the much dreaded “belt”!

Rabindranath had once met an old friend when he was in England, he was blabbing in English all the time, after he finished Rabindranath calmly said

“Alas! You didn’t learn English properly and forgot Bengali as well”

Apply cold water on that burnt area bro; they don’t call him Kabiguru for nothin’!

This is exactly the case of our present day society; we have become oblivious to our moral code and mother tongue but have adopted an alien culture in a rather obscure manner.

Enough said, gimme a break already!

Excuse me please while I gently put on my Oxford’s, button my Louis Vitton, and leave for our very own KAKU’R CHA r DOKAN…

P.S-They only serve Earl Grey!

I hope that you’re hale and hearty and consumin’ no ale.

Thus far and no further, more when we meet at Starbucks!

Whoooops….

Till then,

(removes the bowler hat)

Cheerio Mate!

-THE CYNICAL GOBBLEDEGOOKER

(Lyrics used at the start is that of-

Dubliners – Rocky Road To Dublin Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Image Courtesy-Google)

 

INDIyeAh(the third)

Holi!!

The colourful festival celebrated on the last Full moon on the Lunar Month of Phalguna at the end of the winter season.

Generally, it takes place either in late February or early March.
People leave their sorrows behind and indulge in pure fun with a splash of vibrant colours.

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Many people though, claim Holi to be as hazardous as Diwali for it has an adverse effect on the water and soil.
Every year, people are encouraged not to use synthetic colours as they might cause fatal problems to the skin, but few people lend an ear to that, mostly due to the exorbitant cost of the herbal colours. The synthetic colours contain harmful stuff like PbO,HgSO4,AgBr,CuSO4 and Prussian Blue and these might cause eczema,dermatitis,allergy and the big daddy of all…skin cancer!
* #chemistry___dawg!!*
Precautionary measures are also made available to the commoners,
But who cares right?? 
The Holi swag is incomplete if the “bandor rong” doesn’t stay for at least a couple of days.

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*dumb  af*
Interestingly enough,
Widows were allowed to celebrate Holi this year at Vrindavan, thereby breaking a 400 year old tradition!
Tradition?? Nah!! It’s a bloody Prejudice!

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Some parched villages celebrated dry holi this year, that is, they abolished the use of water and played only with abir! They deserve my salute!
Also that, colours were substituted with cow dung and urine in some parts!!
Yes, you read it right!!
Cow dung and Urine!
Ughhhh!   :3

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In, Much Ado About Nothing, we read about a masked ball, we also use masks here in Holi, but for a very different reason!
It’s not that we don’t want to get ourselves coloured, it’s due to the fear of being turned to an (quoting the bard) ETHIOPE!
Big Boys in gangs patrol the streets in the hunt of a relatively humane face an on finding, vandalise it with something that resembles coal tar!
The wisdom that our elders give during the celebration is “karur chokhe mukhe rong dibi na” but we aim for that headshot don’t we?  😛
There is always that one guy who gets pissed off when we spray colours at him, and I have never seen anyone singing “khelbo holi rong debo na tai kokhono hoi??” at that time! I mean come onn! That’s the opportune moment!

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Bollywood has somehow managed to make anything white, the official uniform of Holi! All these actors wear the crisp-est of kurtas and salwars for the occasion, we are a bit special in that respect, rugged looking clothes spring out of nowhere before Holi, which is ultimately destined to be the all important “POCHHA”!
TV shows have an entirely different view point; “Holi special” episodes turn up during this time as the terrible tales of troublesome families take a tumultuous toll. I would love to imagine a Christmas Special of Game of Thrones where John Snow will finally with snow with the men of the nights Watch!
Normal People play holi in the lanes or open fields! But No! Modern Society has a take on everything as it’s too mainstream!
Various European-like-named clubs who present a
Holi                                      bash,
                                              Splash      *what not?*(featuring DJ Hubba)
Which is a big pain in the dash!

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“Rang barse” and “Ballam Pichkari” are the anthems of this festival and people go nuts listening to em after having pleased the mighty Shiva which we also know as “Baba sheba”.
*wink*
Social Media gets all crammed up with the posts of #boshontoswag and “Can u rcgnise me???” !!!
It’s great to be a part of all this! But it’s equally depressing not to be!!
Damn you boards!
*cries in the corner*
Thank you for reading about my take on Holi, (yes its over… yaay!!)  , I hope that I haven’t offended you or hurt your feelings! If I have I am sorry for being such a cynical jerk, it’s only meant for fun!
HOLI THA!

-THE CYNICAL GOBBLEDEGOOKER

thank you for reading!

the eng-less people

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Before starting this scribble let me inform you that not many days ago, we the Bengali’s celebrated our Mother Tongue Day. This very occasion brought certain questions to my mind, that how much of a Bengali are we? 

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I ask the same question to you as well! Also that, I am writing it like a free flowing speech, so please excuse the regular grammatical errors! (There are many….LOL)
You might ask, why this? Well there have been some thoughts that were doing the rounds in my brain, so I decided to share them with Ya!

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Everyone enjoys watching a film or two! Provides a certain amount of recreation and certainly opens the windows of our brain to the influx of some creative thoughts and ideas.

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But, it has changed you know! In the modern day —-

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Smart people are those who watch English films (dubbed in Hindi) and say: “Bro, (didn’t understand a thing) it was so complex, great storyline man!”
Smart people are those who watch critically acclaimed local movies and say: “Chatushkone—what??? Absolute crap man!!!   See Nolan dude!”

Same is the case for music!!! Yes! You heard me right! MUSIC!

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People tend to hate whatever is local, I don’t know why!
“Why are you listening to country music bruv? Are you from the 60’s? Listen to this awesome track from Eminem!”
I mean, I love Eminem but, why are people making these attempts to make themselves a pseudo-global citizen?? I have no idea!
This kind of an attitude is prevalent everywhere, let me give some more examples!

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Can anyone speak three languages in a single sentence? Hell yeah they can!
“Ei shonna, I am nahh feeling very tired, mera homework kardona please!”
Why humiliate all three languages? Why?
Kabiguru Rabindranath Tagore, while in England had come across a friend once, he appeared to be very British like, and to his behaviour, Kabiguru famously said-
“English ta to shikli e na, Bangla ta o vule geli?”  (If that isn’t swag! I don’t know what is)

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The new generation of parents get paranoid about the admission of their child to some decent school. Well they have every right to be, come on! The population ain’t decreasing! So isn’t the competition in these spheres. A little bit of tension is justifiable, but some people go bollocks!
The desire is to have the letters “ST.” before the name of their school, or they can’t make a social “ST”atement .. I mean what is this?? Are you sending your kids to a fashion parade, to show off their milk bottles? Huh?

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As kids and teens and to be adults, we love to play, be it football, cricket or anything else!
Don’t we? Guys?
But sports are also kind of being imposed now!
“My daughter takes swimming classes!”
“My son goes to cricket coaching!
I feel that these words really suck the joy out of them!
These kids do everything,
They swim, dance, act, play and even top their classes, I don’t know if they love anything that they do!
I am afraid that our society is churning out zombies who are, “Jack of all and Master of none!”

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In 2016,
If someone is good in Bengali and relatively poor in English, people say
“Bangla die ki hobe ahh? Shara bishhyo English e cholche!”(#China_Germany_France_Spain_Russia #LOL)
On the other hand, if case is opposite people say
“Bangalir chele Bangla janena!!HUH!!”
Whatever someone might do, they are bound to get criticised! That’s our society for you!
Enough said,
Let me confess something,
I am really poor in my 2nd Language and not a day goes by, that I don’t regret about it!
Yes, I do get very poor marks in Bengali too!
Still, I love my mother-tongue and try to appreciate the immencely rich literature of it has to offer!
I really hope to have a good grasp over Bengali literature someday, That remains a distant dream!
Nobody has ever succeeded by ignoring their tongue, and no one ever will!
I have utmost respect for your views and beliefs please don’t get me wrong here. It’s just that there are certain things that I like and that I don’t!
-THE CYNICAL GOBBLEDYGOOKER.

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thank you for reading!

Having an exam or an exam having you?

Another anti-romantic comedy in three acts
ACT 1 – the build-up
We all know that “Exams” are knocking at the door! Now, that it’s almost February, that door is going to fling open. For us, it’s not the usual exam, that we kind of study the night before….

It’s the…

*drum roll*
COUNCIL EXAMS!!!!! MUA HA HA!
That very “catchphrase” is enough to make us wet our pants!
The first thing that we all have to do before this time is to say goodbye to some people,
They are… Mr Inquisition and Mrs Logic!
The new people who barge in at our mindsville are Mr Mug and Mrs Tension!
The pile of notes take up the centre stage and the original textbooks slowly disappears down the Oblivion Street. Suggestions and test papers are a “must”; while the original textbooks must not be referred to as it almost becomes a taboo!
“You aren’t doing FRANK? Are you SERIOUS mate?”

why_so_serious__by_phantom_limb
Some kind of a glam quotient starts to develop,
The guy who buys shitloads of test papers is easily the wisest one! More than an examination, this time, becomes a test of survival for the students.
You’re not supposed to stay online during this time period, BUT! Your WhatsApp account must display….. Last Seen Yesterday 3:45! And BAAMMM!!! You have struck the bull’s eye!
I mean really! What is this? A Staying Awake contest?
The poor guy who sees his friend’s last scene the next morning is immediately treated to mental images of his friend CRACKING every undergraduate entrance exam!
Is it an examination or a COCONUT that we are supposed to crack it?

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Ask about me? I am not going crack any exam; I am going to explode ‘em! #thuglife
Once upon a time,
A bearded guy said
“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,”
Now, if I am the hero of this comedy, there must be a villain, and he makes his/her entrance now!
He/She is…….
THE GREAT INDIAN NEIGHBOUR
The nemesis of every of Indian Student.
They usually go by the names of
Sharma Ji, Subramaniam, Agarwal Ji, Chatterjee da and that unanimous aunty with better spying capabilities than James Bond!
They don’t give a f!$# if you are alive or dead,
They come before the exams and say
“ARE YOU APPEARING FOR IIT?”
But, what they actually have in mind is this…
“LET’S SEE IF YOU CAN PASS ISC WITH A FIRST DIVISION!”

If you are a student like me, these words will make you do this….

SafetyViolator

ACT 2 –the day before
The day before the exams is like the final sequences of mission impossible movies.
You open the book and feel like Alice in Sorrowland, the book seems to be like in mint condition and has the smell of new newspapers. If you are unfortunately a science student, the books seem to be written in Hebrew, later you realise that they are just formulas!

math equation
The council could easily lower its load of making question papers and could give us to write all the formulas, Sim-“fail”!
As Morgan Freeman said,
“Prison time is slow time…”
The scenario is quite similar to us students, before exam day
We are sadly an optimistic breed, every now and then we tend to look at the watch to see how much we have been studying, but those stubborn hands won’t bloody move!

cartel
Everyone has that friend who calls to check up on you and rues about how much he has left!
You are left disaster struck would happily accept the contract to kill that guy or make him an offer he can’t refuse for you haven’t started yet!
The stubborn time passes in a negligent manner and goals of wrapping the syllabus shrinks rapidly!
Time is a crazy guy, he moves fast when don’t want him to!
ACT 3- that day!

It’s the dreaded exam day!
I always feel this awkward sense of humour during this time, I have done nothing! Why am I giving the exam?
The moment you reach exam hall, you see robots…with books…

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People pouring over their books to cover every single letter in print. The feel is entirely different!
Guys and Gals sport additional makeup, some have a tilak while others have a stroke of yoghurt which they would happily lick off when no one’s looking!
Finally the exam starts and the moment you get that question paper, everything stops, it’s just numb everywhere!
The question paper seems like an evil Gandalf screaming at you
“You shall not pass!!”

you_shall_not_pass_by_alexicusprime
But you manage to pass, don’t you?
Dodging the bullets like Neo from The Matrix!!

matrix
Outside the hall,
There is another scenario, all the wisecracks have gathered and answer discussions are in full swing,
“The answer is 257.90” says one…
The other one retorts
“No! It’s 257.91, it’s given in page number 131 paragraph numbers 2 and line number 36”
And I think
“How did I get a Math Error in my calculator?”
The guardians are like the passive jury in a hearing, whenever they come to know that their child has missed out on an answer, they come down crashing and interrogations begin!
While everyone else thinks about the next exam, people like me put on their headphones and listen to blaring music!
-NOT WRITTEN BY
BERNARD SHAW.

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Too much philosophy is bad for health!

He didn’t even bother to look both ways, such hurry! He slammed the door shut and entered the premises of his English class. It was speaking day! And he didn’t even get the time to prepare his speech; he was thirty minutes late for god sakes! To add to his troubles… he was up next to speak! Fumbling and skidding through the surface, he got on to the podium and said….

“ahhh….hmmm…..I…..ah….am so sorry for being late…actually… I ah…..”

“Come on Soumya say something…….” yelled his teacher with a glare in her eye.

“Sorry maam… I am trying”

With much difficulty and hesitation he began to speak with trembling lips and limbs….

“He almost slipped on stepping on to a banana peel, somehow he pulled himself up and ran towards the train, somehow he got into a bogey and wanted to pump his fist in the air, but on realising that many passengers were also present, he discarded the idea. Thankfully, he had got a golden opportunity to grab the widow seat. On noticing, he realised that that many people weren’t actually there. There was this couple, who sat in corner making a closet of their own, doing all the lovey dovey things publicly possible. An old man was dozing opposite to them; he appeared to be absolutely aloof to whatever was happening around him (nothing was, actually). And the train left konnagar station! No wonder it was a Sunday!

The bogey was surprisingly empty, Hind motor arrived within no time and was left behind as well. Uttarpara gave way to a young man most probably aspiring to be an athlete to join our little group.

Nothing happened at Bally either.

While our sportsman was busy tying the lace of his “abidas” studs and the couple busy in feeding each other peanuts which they had brought from a hawker, our nonchalant old guy must have heard some supernatural announcement that his destination, Belur was arriving. Like a robot he got off from his seat and boarded the train down just as it stopped while fixing his shades. Some acquired reflexes that! I have seen many people do that, from being lost in the eternal world of sleep to springing into life just when the station arrives! Damn! I find it astonishing. He must be paying his weekly visit to Belur Math, i thought.

Our athlete has just now taken out a small red plastic container wrapped with many a rubber band and is very carefully disposing some brown granules into his palm only to rub it vigorously for some reason and consume it a most unlikely manner. My pack of blue cheetos is way better i thought and looked away! A little unrest caught my eye…Oh our couple were preparing to leave us in Liluah. And with the least haste they too got off the train while holding their hands, and i be like, some stamina that!

That left me with the sportsman, who now by the way, was engrossed in candycrush!

Slowly but least steadily did Howrah arrive and my sole companion also left. I was left wandering about the numerous possibilities of who these people might or might not have been. This sporty guy who just left could might as well be famous some day. Our old man might have been a great soldier in his day, going by his stout stature and is only in the lookout for peace nowadays. The in-love couple might get divorced some day. Who knows? What life has in store for us?

T.S Elliot was so true. Destination and destiny are so different!(To The Indian who died in Africa)

Suddenly i remembered so it was for my case!! As everything appeared very still, i decided to take a look outside, something read HOWRAH, i knew that didn’t I? But the funny thing is my DESTINATION was not supposed to be here, and….

Nothing happened at Bally either- should not have happened!

As my tuition is at Bally!

And there i was , at my destiny…eh? is it the right way to put it.

I don’t care….as i did manage scamper from howrah to bally at tremendous haste only to give this nonsense of a speech to you all….”

The entire batch roared with laughter at my silly speech, even my teacher was in splits at my silliness..

“The best excuse i have ever heard Soumya!!!….” she added and after a brief pause added the words

“……Somehow” and winked at me.

Thank you for enduring through this! the next one will be better, i promise! Whatever,

please let me know that how bad it is filling the comments section below!

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