City Life

I wonder from where people developed this love for shopping. This evening I went to Kamala Nagar with the intention of buying a few items of clothing. The shops are crowded like a fish market in Kolkata. There is hardly any space to breathe, let alone look for what you want. Is it the “population explosion” or is the trend these days? Most of the t shirts on the shelves were of a design I wouldn’t dare to wear for the fear of being hounded by dogs on the streets.
Then I was at a shop to buy a pair of slippers. I stood at the counter waiting my turn to pay the bill. The guy at the counter asked the lady in front of me, “Kya aap ke paas change nahi hain?” The “polished” lady answered in the negative, in a language that I think was English, but the accent was really indistinguishable. Where did she acquire such an accent from, Timbuktu? The poor chap at the desk was perplexed and clearly at his wits end. However, he chanced to see her shaking her head and realised what she had wanted to say.
Is this the “hip and happening” city life that people are crazy about? Your house seems to be the only place where you seem to have enough place to stretch your arms wide without the fear of striking down the person next to you. Living in free air is now a distant dream in this much celebrated city.
THREE CHEERS TO CITY LIFE!!!

And the twilight fades into the night…

As twilight faded away, rains graced the earths surface with as much dignity it could carry after being absent for so long and prolonging the miseries of creatures from all walks of life. It was as if... as if it was a gift from the deity, Indra on the auspicious occasion of Janmashtami. You may make me out to be a deeply religious man, but I wanted to escape the hustle-bustle which is music to the ears of city dwellers, and the noise and lights of the temples and the streets. I wanted solace - few moments which I could own, moments that would perhaps be lost with the waves in mind forever. Welcoming the rains, I walked into a park where I could feel nature at its best in the colony where I live. No lights, little sound. Just drops of water soothing the wounds in the body…and even mind and perhaps the soul.
The silhouette of the trees against the backdrop of a sky covered with clouds which reflected the moon’s beautiful “Happydent” smile. The artist in me awoke and I saw things in new light. Within moments the same nature which was no better than the most tormenting hell was transformed into a relative paradise – something I never felt in Delhi. How a little extremity can push us to the hilt! Once more I wished that I had been a painter instead of a poet (if you permit me to call myself one).
I began to search for the Divine in those surroundings. If He does exist (and I’m sure he does), he had to be there somewhere in the magic created by the cool breeze that came just in time for the party of Nature going on…. Nothing mattered. Joys, sorrows, pleasures, grieves – all seemed to have taken leave of me. They too must have been admiring the loveliness that was possible only because of the scorching heat that preceded the rains.

Now, dear folks, do I get a little philosophical? Some people make it seem that being philosophical is a crime of an abominable nature. To them, I say that if you prove it to be so, then God perhaps has committed a fault caught by great people like your holiness. If looking at the truth of existence from different angles and observing them in the various colours that they exist in, is a crime then hang me. I would rather enjoy the beauty of all colours – they intensity of darkness, the joy of light, the gloom of grey… rather than stand under the street lights even during the day.

Achievements of a Backbencher (a.k.a. The Backbencher Identitiy)

The stories of various ‘events’ occurring in the backbenches of schools and colleges are prevalent everywhere. Sometimes, when people sit down to gossip or recall their days students, many folks, irrespective of their experience in the backbenches (if any) claim to have been eternal backbenchers with a devil-may-care attitude and renowned naughtiness.
Now by my final year in college, that too as a die hard backbencher, I have discovered the joys and secrets that continue to make this revered bench so fascinating. Majoring in English, I have been able to learn quite a few noteworthy things that frontbenchers can only aspire to in their dreams. Before I boast of the achievements of the LBU (Last Benchers’ Union), of which I am a decorated member, let me clarify a few things. Backbenchers are not dumb. We are just a few enlightened beings who have realised the real value of life and competition. It is because of our efforts at the back that the seemingly intelligent ones at the front can run away with the cake, and we are content to have it that way. Selflessness is the basic characteristic of a backbencher. People at the back are wonderful human beings with an amazing sense of humour and a zest for life. There is rarely a truly dull moment among the LBU members. While classes take their due course, we, the pioneers and philosophers of tomorrow train hard to attain an excellence of temperament, a vividness of imagination, and a refinement of thought by our own unique methods. New discoveries are made by those who dare to move off the beaten track.
Now, as for my personal achievements, I have been able to distinguish between a soliloquy and a dramatic monologue, just by observing our teachers and students in class, inconspicuously from the last bench. I have learnt about the desperate measures the critics can resort to, to have their “observations” accepted among a literary circle of toadies. Thanks to this precious bench, I have been able to catch up on my sleep every morning and therefore remain in sound health. I also have been able to look within and carry on with this wonderful thing called self discovery.
The last bench has plenty to offer to those who look forward to having something unique in their lives. It is a place for future artists, inventors and discoverers. I am quite certain that Einstein and Newton too must have been backbenchers. Too bad, our very own Rabindranath Tagore never went to school. We could have boasted of another “celebrity.”

NOTE
1. Newton had all the time in the world to sit/sleep (probably, he was bunking work) under the apple tree ‘waiting for the apple to fall’- this guy had to be a backbencher.
2. Einstein could never understand Mathematics in school – hallmark of a backbencher. So he invented his own maths and relativity.
(This was written while Dr. Saint was busy doing what only he is capable of, inside the classroom.)