Thursday, 30 January 2014

For Whom It Matters The Least

This is not exactly something new but since I burnt every scribbling when I realised they are useless, this might look new.
I am too lazy to type in Bengali (Bangla, to be exact)

Jodio tomar nojore ami nogonno
Tobuo amar hridoy jure sudhu tumi e tumi
Tomar du chokhe royechhe ontobihin pother disha
Ogochore tomar ami je pothe cholar ongikar kori
Gobhir rate jokhon duniyay sob sopno dekhe
Jege jege ami tomar e to protikkha kori
Tumi to jano na,jokhon tumi kotha bolo
Ami suni, ami bujhi na, sudhu dekhte thaki
Sopno kokhon eto bastob hote pare
Dekhi na sopno ami kono sopnosundarir
Sopno amar roop niyeche tomar
Tomar shihorito shorirer kothao
Amar okhondo shanti somahito achhe
Tar e khoje ami tomar shorir porjoton kori
Eso kache, dekho amar sorbosso diye tomai
Kemon ami valobasai nisso hote pari

(Thank you VinayNS for encouraging to translate and yet not praising me.)

Although I am insignificant for you
Still in my heart, its you and you
In your eyes is the direction for my endless journey
Unknown to you, i promise to walk on it forever
When at midnight, the world is lost in dreams
Awake, I wait for only your arrival
You know not but when you speak
I listen, I understand not, just keep on watching
Can dream ever be so vivid
I desire not of any dream-girl
My dream has taken your shape
Somewhere in your awaken body
My eternal peace is hidden deep
In search of that, i explore your body
Come close, watch how giving you my everything
I can become nothing in love.

(This is certainly my most precious post, costed me Rs 1100 to post this. Sighh!!)

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

Fictitious Conversation

This is a fictional conversation which doesn’t need telling. People are named like Mahdi, Maryam, Faiz or Alex, or even Kumbatata (probably, in African countries) but certainly not like Mr Trusting and Mr Suspicious. This is, once again, just a conversation I dreamt, last night.

The conversation went like this, or this is what I remembered when I woke up.

Mr. Trusting and Mr. Suspicious are two gentlemen, who are known to each other without being too close. Somehow, I suspect, Mr. Suspicious didn’t want it. Mr. Trusting is more of a happy go lucky type of chap.

Mr. Trusting: oi mate, good morning.

Mr. Suspicious: Morning Mr. Trusting

Mr. Trusting: How have you been?

Mr. Suspicious: me great mate, you?

Mr. Trusting: Can't complain. Tell me how was your day.

Mr. Suspicious: (slowly drawing guard) well, it was just another day.

Mr. Trusting: Uhu, how is...err...what was her name....Victoria?

Mr. Suspicious: (wondering whether Mr. Trusting knows that they are not together anymore) she is good. Thank you.

(Awkward silence as Mr. Suspicious is not committing anything and Mr. Trusting doesn’t know how to press on)
Mr. Trusting: (after a prolonged pause) Look how beautiful the west looks. (referring to the red sky just after sunset).

Mr. Suspicious watches it grimly. Sighs. Now speaking hurriedly
Mr. Suspicious: tell me one thing mate, who told you that is west?

Mr. Trusting: (visibly taken aback) well..ha ha (laughs somewhat forcefully) well, we all know that the sun sets in the west.

Mr. Suspicious: hmm. No mate. You think that is the west because we were taught to call it west. We don’t know if it is the west exactly. What if I want to name it North and everybody agrees to that.

Mr. Trusting: (completely perplexed) err, I guess, well, what's in a name, right? (laughs)

Mr. Suspicious: And yet, we must remember the name of the dramatist who said it.

Mr. Trusting: Uhu, never thought it like that.

Mr. Suspicious: Exactly. We keep on believing. Never question. That's how we are progressing.

Mr. Trusting: Err, should we question everything? (suddenly) are you a theist, mate?

Mr Suspicious: I am a what?

Mr. Trusting: A theist, do you believe in God?

Mr Suspicious: (carefully measuring his words) yes, I do.

Mr Trusting: Do you have any proof that he exists?

Mr Suspicious: (laughs) how else, do you think, everything is so organised? How can the universe be made without a maker?

Mr Trusting: But, could you prove his presence? I mean, you are assuming he is there because if you deny Him, you cant explain these. In other words, God is not a theorem which can be proven. He is more like a hypothesis, believe him and you can explain everything else. (breathes after speaking very fast.)

Mr Suspicious: Well Trusting, that's your way of putting things. I need not agree.

Mr Trusting: well, there I agree, You are free to disagree. (continues after a small pause) but mate, trust builds relationships. You have to agree there.

Mr. Suspicious: Can see what good trust is by the number of divorce applications. I say, why trust. Win trust. I ain't going to give it away.

Mr. Trusting: But, it is so subjective. Remember Aesop? If you don’t want to trust, nothing can make you trust.

Mr. Suspicious: Isn’t it better than to misplace the trust?

Mr. Trusting: But, not every trust is misplaced. I mean, if we don’t trust anyone, how will we know who is worthy of trusting and who is not? (speaks with vigour now as he remembers something) Look at my parents, they trusted each other, and it was an arranged marriage, they trusted blindly. Nothing could tear them apart.

Mr. Suspicious: And you? (knowing well Mr Trusting is facing a divorce case, filed by his wife.)

Mr. Trusting: (hesitantly)err, I misjudged.

Mr. Suspicious: see, that is what exactly I want to avoid.

Mr. Trusting is now completely clueless what to say. Mr. Suspicious looks satisfied, he has just argued and won against another too trusting idiot. Mr. Suspicious continues, the tone is somewhat sympathetic now.
Mr. Suspicious: look mate, I have nothing against you, we are good friends. You just don’t know what you are saying. Look at you, broken and ruined just because you trusted. Look at me, I don’t want to bloat, but see me, I am safe and happy because I don’t trust anybody or anything. Trusting means someone someday will misuse it.

Mr. Trusting: and not trusting means, you never know who just crossed you could have been the person who could have turned your life into heaven. There is no reward without a risk.

Mr. Suspicious: (back to the aloof tone after his valuable words are rejected and protested to) well then mate, do what you shall. Just don’t blame others for what happens to you. Guess you can never realise this truth. (sighs visibly)

Mr. Trusting: Guess what mate? I am happy. (stops Mr. Suspicious with a wave of hand as Mr. Suspicious was about to say something) and you know why I am happy? Because I don’t see the half glass empty. I drink the remaining half glass to the last drop. (again stops Mr. Suspicious) yes, I misplaced my trust. But guess what, I will do it again at the next opportunity. Only that way, and yes only and only in that way, I know I will find someone who will honour my trust. You, on the other hand, will remain in your guarded walls, and probably die with the regret that you couldn’t find someone who is worthy of your trust. But know it mate, you can never find them because when they pass you, you are too scared and suspicious of giving them a chance.

Mr. Suspicious: (fuming in anger now) Neither did I seek nor do I need your advice on what I should do. I wonder at your audacity though, a sore loser, who has nothing left to be proud of, teaching someone how to win things?

Mr. Trusting smiles.
Mr. Trusting: Good day mate. (Mr. Trusting whistles away)

Mr. Suspicious: Some idiots will die idiots. Why on earth do I waste my time with them?
(Mr. Suspicious drags himself away)

Wednesday, 1 January 2014

Waiting To Re-live

Surely I am a Muslim and we don’t believe in re-incarnation (except for Jesus Christ but then we believe he never died, God saved him on the cross) so title might be a bit confusing.
Let me quote Jasim-ud-din, "ghumiye achhe shishur pita sab shishur-i antore" (Every kid has his father sleeping inside him). Get the sense? Yes, I am a father of the best baby in the world.

My father is very fond of story telling. And he excels at it too, unlike me who can bore people to sleep when telling a story. And one of the stories my father fondly tells everyone is how I was a surprisingly brilliant kid in my childhood.  Leaving other stories for the time being, which you will find difficult to believe anyway given my enmity with IQ nowadays, let me tell you one which I like.

There is this book I received as a gift, even before I could read the alphabet. Its one of those books where each page has 4-5 lines and remaining are illustrations. The name of the book was "Tutu Bhutu", Tutu and Bhutu, a dog and a cat respectively, were the two main characters of that book. Here is the only cover page which I could find on the internet. Pardon the image size.

Forget the story of it, in gist the story was how Bhutu went fishing and had a feast with all his friends with the big fish he caught, let me get to the story my father would love to tell you a thousand times.

According to him, they read to me the book and I just loved it. The love went so crazy, that I will go around the house to find anyone free and give him the book and ask him or her to read it to me. I will sleep with the book beside myself and in a day, I would make them read the same book at least 20 times. I would even insist that they should laugh when I am laughing.

Now is the incredible part...I heard the book so many times that I memorised the book completely without knowing how to read. So, I can recite it from my memory, even pause at the punctuations and turn pages at the appropriates breaks. So, if you don’t know the story behind, you will feel a tiny kid is reading it fluently.

The second page of the book.

The childhood copy was of course soiled from so much of use and while my sister was growing up, she made sure its completely torn. Sadly, this classic, which could have taken any child classic including those from Lewis Carol, never received the publicity or popularity it deserved. I finally got a copy few years back at the bookfair when I was doing engineering and had to literally beg to the publisher to sell me the copy which was there for illustration purpose alone.

Coming back to the purpose of this blog, I always wished I could see those days. I never could. But now I know there is a strong chance. God has given me a great baby and hopefully he will soon be with me and I can't wait to see tiny Faiz running around with his copy of Tutu Vutu and asking all to read the same to him multiple times a day.

Time to re-live is probably so close.