CalcZ version 1.0.10.3_alpha released

Download CalcZ v1.0.10.3_alpha NOW!!!

Then what exactly is calcZ?

It is a command line (dos mode) scientific calculator. Which can do normal mathematical operations like addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, parenthesized expression solving, finding modulus, raised to operations and many more. As well as it does logarithmic and trigonometric calculations involving sin, cos, tan, log, loge, ln, exponentiation etc. You can use the result of the last calculation in the next calculation using 'Ans' keyword. The operations are much like normal 2-tier display scientific calculators in the market. Things will be more clear in the example section at the end of the blog.




And there are more. Apart from normal expression solving, you can use it to do other operations like binary to decimal, decimal to binary, decimal to hex, hex to decimal, factorial calculation and finding root of polynomials.

This calculator accepts the whole expression at once and outputs the result.

Why I use CalcZ?

There are many reasons:

1. This program is small in size w.r.t. features it supports. So you do not need to load a big program for a small calculation.
2. Supports most mathematical and scientific operations plus some more features.
3. It can find real roots of polynomials from this version.
4. If you have made any typing errors it tracks them specifically. For example, if you have entered "32+*32" instead of generation a 'Syn Error', it tells you 'Error! Repeated or misplaced operator'.
5. Comes with detailed help and support systems with lots of examples so that you do not get stuck.

What is this finding root of polynomials all about?

Yes, from this 1.0.10.3 version and onwards you can use the findroot command to enter a polynomial like "X^2+2*X-2" and this program will find the root for you. Internally, this program uses a numerical successive approximation method called SECANT.

Yes, this feature still has some deficiencies and stability issues (that is why this is an ALPHA release). But I am trying to overcome those. As of now this program can not find out complex roots. And if your polynomial have complex roots, this program can not help. More testing and updating is being done in this section.

How to use this software?

I am pasting a sample run of the software here. Hope all your queries will be resolved. If you still have some, please mail me at mail.joydip@gmail.com

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----------------------------------------------------------------------
calcZ (v1.0.10.2_alpha)
Enter 'START' for Quick Start Guide
Enter 'EXIT' to Quit
----------------------------------------------------------------------

Enter Expression>> 23+3/2+23.5+(65-4)

The Answer is:

109.000000000000000

=> 1.090000000000000E+002

Enter Expression>> Ans ^ 2

The Answer is:

11881.000000000000000

=> 1.188100000000000E+004

Enter Expression>> 13 mod 5

The Answer is:

3.000000000000000

=> 3.000000000000000E+000

Enter Expression>> 13 % 5

The Answer is:

3.000000000000000

=> 3.000000000000000E+000

Enter Expression>> Sin(PI/4)+Cos(PI/4)

The Answer is:

1.414213562373095

=> 1.414213562373095E+000

Enter Expression>> Log 10

The Answer is:

1.000000000000000

=> 1.000000000000000E+000

Enter Expression>> Ln 10

The Answer is:

2.302585092994046

=> 2.302585092994046E+000

Enter Expression>> LogE 10

The Answer is:

2.302585092994046

=> 2.302585092994046E+000

Enter Expression>> 6.023*10^23

The Answer is:

602300000000000040000000.000000000000000

=> 6.023000000000000E+023


Enter Expression>> 6.023exp23

The Answer is:

602300000000000040000000.000000000000000

=> 6.023000000000000E+023

Enter Expression>> 1/0

The Answer is:

INFINITE

Enter Expression>> 0/0

The Answer is:

UNDEFINED

Enter Expression>> 6*10^(-2)

The Answer is:

0.060000000000000

=> 6.000000000000000E-002

Enter Expression>> 6e(-2)

The Answer is:

0.060000000000000

=> 6.000000000000000E-002

Enter Expression>> 6e(-2) + 0.0005

The Answer is:

0.060500000000000

=> 6.050000000000000E-002

Enter Expression>> 12+*4

Stack Underflow
(Possibly repeated or abnormal placement of operator)

----------------------------------------------------------------
calcZ (v1.0.10.2_alpha)
Enter 'START' for Quick Start Guide
Enter 'EXIT' to Quit
----------------------------------------------------------------

Enter Expression>> 12..4+89

The Answer is:

101.000000000000000

=> 1.010000000000000E+002

Enter Expression>> 12....4+89

The Answer is:

101.000000000000000

=> 1.010000000000000E+002

Enter Expression>> 12+w232

'W'
(INVALID CHARECTER)

Enter Expression>> bin2dec

Enter binary number>> 10110

Decimal equivalent is: 22

Enter Expression>> dec2bin

Enter any DECIMAL number>> 85

Binary Equivalent is: 1010101

Enter Expression>> dec2hex

Enter a decimal no>> 85

Hex is: 55

Enter Expression>> dec2hex

Enter a decimal no>> 15

Hex is: F

Enter Expression>> hex2dec

Enter a hex no>> f

Decimal is: 15

Enter Expression>> factorial

Enter number>> 15

Factorial: 2004310016

Enter Expression>> findroot

** NOTE: Program crashes if your polynomial have complex roots.

** NOTE: This feature is still not stable.**

Enter polynomial in terms of x>> x^2+2x-2

The root is : 0.732051
(correct upto five decimal places)

---

How do I download the program?

Please visit http://geocities.com/joydipdattaonline/downloads/index.htm to reach the download page.
Or click here to direct download.

Untitled Story

*** 1 ***

“Board game? This is a bored game.” said Runa.

“What else could we all do? Getting stuffed in this obnoxious house with the phase gone out?” said I.

“Oof!! On top of the load shading there is mosquitoes. At least someone do something about it. If it keeps going on like this they will end up drinking all my blood within next morning” Mitali screamed as a mosquito bit her.

“Koi… amake to kichhu kamrachchhe na?” Binoy invariably supported the mosquitoes.

Hrishi snapped, “Abbe… tu itna kaala hain ki machchhar bhi tujhko andhere se alag nehi kar pa raha”

And there was again a thrust of laughter and giggles.

Mitali said, “Ohh!! SIELENCE! Why you guys laugh laudly?”

Hrishi said, “Because it is no crime to not to be so hushed up all the way” and added a laud “HA HA HA”.

Mitali got pink over this and said, “You guys are all the same. Do whatever you want. Please don’t bother me”

“No one have that much time to bother you. See, we are already very busy.” Hrishi said and lit up a cigarette.

Amrita was silent all the way. now she snapped, “Hey Hrish… Don’t smoke.”

Hrishi snapped back, “I am not smoking.”

- “Uhh… then would you please tell me exactly what are you doing with the burning cigarette in your mouth?”
- “Just trying to get rid of the mosquitoes, and using tobacco in substitute of dhuna” and again started laughing.
- “You are just intolerable. I can not sustain you people any more. I am leaving” Mitali said.

“Where?” Binoy asked as if he was genuinely curious.

“Outside. Just getting rid of you.” Mitali declared.

I said in a newsreader’s tone, “Mitu is going outside. In the outside, amidst the pitch black darkness, a grayish figure will emerge out of the ivory backdrop. Slowly the figure will come towards our beloved Mitu. And Mitu will scream, ‘AAAAAHHH!!!’” I imitated Mitali’s sharp voice.

“You people are really intolerable.” And mitali sat beside me with a distinct thump.

The cigarette passing from hand to hand had just reached me. After taking a puff I politely asked Mitali, “Counter?”

Probabli this was a bit extra. Mitali got senti over this. And we all had to make her up. “Mitu… Mitu… Mitu… you are the gem of our team. See we were just having some fun. No intention truly…

*** 2 ***

On the contrary, the outside world was very calm. So calm that even the breathing of the plants and trees could be heard. The leaves of the tall deodar trees were trembling in the excitement of spring. The taller coconut and palm trees were making distinct hissing noises… they were breathing as it seemed. And a faint yellow moon could be seen near the horizon. The shadow of the moon looked garland of light around her.

In the very faint moonlight, two elongated shadows could be seen. They were slowly approaching the house.

*** 3 ***

“The whole matter proves one thing for certain, Mitu has certain allergy towards ghosts. Especially if they are pale and big Brahmadatyi type”

“Ohh!! Shut up Hrishi, you people frighten Mitu so much that she doesn’t even has the courage to go to the bathroom alone” said Amrita.

“Shut up you guys. I said I am bored” Runa talked after a long time in her distinct girly-girly tone.

“Yes, so are we. But do we have other options?” snapped Hrishi.

“Other options than playing Ludo in turns. Buladi herself may have not been played this much Ludo.” I said.

(May be continued...)

RAHMAN

(2nd Issue) The previous issue is here

---

The story so far: When Rahman’s mother died when he was 21, the jobless Rahman became homeless too. Rambling here and there as a vagabond Rahman met a dying lady who gave him some coins. The last coin was a bit bizarre. It had an arrow on it. Whenever Rahman tossed it, the arrow side would be on top and pointing to a particular direction. Having nothing to do Rahman followed the direction and reached a small teashop where he bought bread. But as soon as the shopkeeper saw the coin in Rahman’s hand, they seemed to recognize him as the sacred walker walking the path of end unknown.

---

Rahman reached the shop. He could only afford one half breads with the one rupee left. Hesitating whether to spend or not spend, Raman entered the shop.

“Get me one of those half breads” said Rahman.

The bulky shopkeeper woman barked, “It costs one rupee.”

“Yes, give me that. I am hungry” said Rahman.

“Show me the money first. Lot’s of people from the poor village comes and eats and then asks us to write down the bill in the credit book which is not ever paid. Our cashbox are filling with credit book instead of cash. The shop will shut down if things keeps on going like this”, the woman barked again.

Well, that was not the behavior a first time customer expects from a shopkeeper. But in life the expected things does not always happen. Rahman was still reluctant to spend the last coin, so he was hesitating.

“Give me the money or move your butt out of my shop” the woman barked at the highest possible pitch. Rahman was jerked with the intensity and loudness and slowly gave her the coin.

But as soon as the woman saw the one rupee coin, the body language of the woman changed. She handed over him one half bread and gave the one rupee back to him.

Rahman said, “The coin is perfectly alright. It is not disputed. You must take this one. I have none other left.”

The woman responded, “Son, First stop people do not take money from the sacred walkers.” Rahman could not get the meaning. He was too amazed to ask what she meant. The woman said, “Take this bread son.”

As Rahman was leaving the shop, he heard the woman saying to the aged man “Saw him? He is the chosen one.”

Rahman’s ear drums were buzzing. What were these things? What is meant by sacred walkers? What was the meaning of the chosen one? Totally puzzled Rahman stood in front of the shop and tossed the coin again. This time the coin landed vertically.

The coin landed vertically… wait, this means this is the place where the coin was intending to take me. The coin guided me here… Yes, this is the place. But why is that? What is special in this distant teashop in this godforsaken place?

“I must check it out” thought Rahman. Forgetting all his earthly needs like appetite, Rahman went back to the shop and his jaw dropped. He first thought he must have been forgot the path back to the teashop. He went back and came again to make sure he was right. But where the hell is the teashop? There was nothing. The landscape was just empty; only some bushes scattered here and there and some cows grazing. Puzzled Rahman tossed the coin again, this time it was pointing somewhere else.

“What the hell is this happening?” Rahman cried aloud and sat on the empty field. His brain had just ceased to process the unnatural data which was in contrary to the logics it learned from Rahman’s childhood. First a dying grandma, then a bizarre coin, then some dream sequences, after that some bizarre people in a teashop with their God-knows-what-it-means set of dialogs and now all of a sudden the shop is vanished. All I got is this coin and this half bread.

“I need to use my brain” thought Rahman. What was the shopkeeper saying? “First stop people…” this means there are more. There is way ahead; perhaps a very long journey towards the end unknown.

“What should I do? Continue walking or get back to my village home and continue to work in Sadhan Kaka’s grocery shop as a helper for a meager 100 rupees at the month’s end? Whatever; let me eat the bread first”

Being too puzzled amidst these weird scenes Rahman forgot his appetite. Suddenly it came back. He tore off the paper wrapping and had a bite.

“WHACKK!!! There is something inside. A piece of plastic coated paper was peeping out from the bitten off corner of the bread. Rahman quickly ate the bread and got the paper out. Some message was written on it.


(May be continued)

- Joydip Datta

বিচ্ছিন্ন কিছু ঘটনা ছাড়া...

বিচ্ছিন্ন কিছু ঘটনা ছাড়া এবারের পঞ্চায়েত নির্বাচন অবাধ ও শান্তিপূর্ণ হয়েছে।

শান্তিপূর্ন নির্বাচনেই অন্ততঃ ২৩ জন (আঃবাঃপঃ) মারা গেলেন...
অশান্তির নির্বাচন হলে কী হত?

পরীক্ষা শেষ হল

 একরাশ বেদনার মাঝখান দিয়ে আমার কলেজ জীবন শেষ হল। দেখতে দেখতে কেটে গেল চার চারটি বছর। সেই ফার্স্ট-ইয়ারে গুটি-গুটি পায়ে ঢুকেছিলাম অনেকটা ধুকপুকুনি সঙ্গে নিয়ে... ঢুকতেই কানে এসেছিল কলেজের অনেক বদনাম - সিনিয়রদের মুখ থেকে... যার অনেকটাই হয়তো সত্যি, তাও আজ বলব কলেজ থেকে পেয়েছি ও প্রচূর।

আজ এই বিদায়বেলায় মনে পড়ে সেই প্রথম বছরের দিনগুলোর কথা, <may be continued>

The Night Before AI Exam

Within a few hours there will be the last written exam of my student life. And I am now going to sleep with a terrible preparation too. Not because I am tired, but because my brain got saturated with the AI stuff which mostly I could not crack.

There is a pitch black night outside. Only the outlines of the houses and trees are seeming like grotesque obstacles to the dark red cloudy midnight sky. Within a few hours the black will be faded by morning rays and after some more hours my 'Student' life (not in the broader sense) will end. After the exam there will be no 'MID SEM BREAK'...

What next?

5th May, 2008, 01:04 AM

When I Just Started Scribbling

It was when i was ~ 2 to 3 years old...

हिन्दी :D

ब्लागस्पाट के ब्लॉग में आप हिन्दी में भी लिख सकते हैं। मगर मैं किउं लिक्क्हू?

Diplomacy – acting all the way

It is too hot outside and humid too. If it doesn’t rain in this early Baishakh, it is too much. At least for someone like me who is caught by fever with body ache only after moving in the sun for a couple of days. I don’t know much about lots of the hard working people working just beneath the sun day in and day out to get the two ends meet. See I am again flagellating.

But Hey!! Wait… Wait… I am drifting away from the topic.

As you grow older, whatever you are in life, successful or a loser, at the top or at the bottom or rather pushing all the way for a place in the middle like the huge crowd and me, one thing is for sure. You learn acting as you grow older. You need to be diplomatic all the way; no emotions whatsoever (or you need to fake the emotion in some situations like a funeral of a distant uncle). If you get success, reach at the top, yet you can not shout “See I am at the top. Come on chase me… I will piss you all off.” You can not show your joy… you must put a matter-of-factly smile on your face.

And more importantly,

Say you lose the game. You get to the bottom with a distinct thump. Suddenly you see people who were behind you are suddenly way ahead of you (like it happens when your car/bike crashes in a racing game like Road Rash or NFS), when your life get some unusual wrong turn which you did not anticipated even in your darkest nightmares, when people just cease noticing your presence, you become suddenly invisible as if you are a total not-worthy-type of person, then also you must put a diplomatic smile stuck to your lips as if nothing have happened and your are still the happy-happy person as you were some months before. You can not shout… you can not scream your heart out. You are fucked up in this jail of pseudo happiness which does not let you to be genuinely too happy or too sad.

You can not speak your heart out.

I sometimes get a mood of singing aloud or laughing to my hearts content (whatever may the reason be) at a crowded Sealdah station. I could do so when I was under five. But if I try that at this age, people will pay me a long curious/disgusting/brushing-over-top-to-bottom glance. If I dare to do it again someone will ask me if I was alright or just tell me to stop. If I do it for the third time, there are again options. Either there will be crowd all around me or someone will slap me hard or I will be handed over to the RPF.

And as a result (I think) you gradually become a never-happy-never-sad class of ROBOT. By acting that you do not have any emotions most of the times, one day you really lose them.

You see, most of the times we don’t know what we actually want. Even if we get to know what we want, we can not speak them out (desires is the root cause of all evils… I know. But still, with out fulfilling desires you can not walk the path of detachment … I think. And desires may not always be “bad things” like wanting to have sex with the pretty chick at the bus stop or killing your bad boss out.) Just because of the fact that we need to be smart and diplomatic.

Sometimes I think it is better to be an animal.

- Joydip Datta

All About My Blog

News paper cutting from TOI Kolkata

Passing lazy times

Puzzled inside a cyber cafe... i am typing. When the reasons for which you entered the cafe is done in 20 minutes, and you still have 40 minutes to wasten you pass the time like this.

The cyber cafe is awsome. Most of the keys do not have anything written upon them. So, who do not have any idea, may not type at all. Fortunately i had some so, i am still typing.

The enter key gets locked every second time you press it. So, upon restabilizing that button let me think... ummm... what should i write?

Lete me put some idea about the next few lines of RAHMAN here...

RAHMAN

SCRATCH PAGES...

---

Upon taking a bite from the bread, Rahman started movig on. The words from the shopkeeper was still buzzing in his head. What the hell does these means? Who is he? A follower of the noble path or a chosen one or what? Randomized gibberish...

And on the top of that, the coin is not working. The coin is just working as any other coin in this world. Just normal. Heads and tails are all outcome of some random experiment. Unmindfully, Rahman took another bite from the bread suddenly he astonihed.

There was a paper inside the bread. He took the paper out. There was again some gibberish....
A poem or so. He read the lines aloud.

"

হঠাৎই

এমনি হঠাৎ পড়ল তোকে মনে।
সেই হাসি আর নামিয়ে নেওয়া চোখ।
চোখের কোণে চিকিয়ে ওঠা জল...
এলোমেলো সব ভাবনা অনর্থক।

এই সেদিনও হাঁটতে হাঁটতে মোরা,
পেরিয়ে গেছি শুরুর থেকে শেষ।
আজকে হঠাৎ প্রাণের মধ্যে কেন
উজিয়ে ওঠে স্মৃতির অবশেষ?

সত্যিই কি সব কিছু শেষ হল?
সত্যিই কি আর কিছু নেই বাকি?
চল্‌ না আবার ফের থেকে স্টার্ট করি...
এ হাত খানা তোর হাতেতেই রাখি।

A MAFIATIC DREAM!

A great dream was that. Let me share here… Last night when I was back after my didi’s marriage ceremony… I dreamt a lot; probably as an adverse effect of too rich diet at such a late of night.

---

Scene 1:

A large auditorium; some sort of play is going on. In the front row side seat, a girl ~ age 25 is sitting. The camera rotates around the auditorium. There are several boxes around the wall. The auditorium is not a house-full one. There are a few spectators, as it is expected in a group theatre show. The camera is placed at the back row aiming to the front row seats. As a result the face of the girl can not be seen.

Suddenly a sound of gunshot causes the spectators and artists flee in panic. The sound was coming from one of the boxes far above. The girl was found dead in the front row. The bullet pierced her neck.

Scene 2:

3 investigators, two men and one woman, all in their late twenties are searching the entire auditorium for the shooter. The two men are searching the ‘no-entry’ rooms, the generator room, and the computer control panel; online edit room, green rooms etc. Suddenly the phone of one investigator rings. It is the woman investigator. She says, “Come in the basement. The chap has fled. We need to reach out.”

- “Basement… where?”

- “near the broken wooden horse… come where all the garbage are dumped.”

Scene 3:

A young girl, Anjali, age around 24 – 25, has come to a hill station with her parents. They buys the Times Of India and sees the front page news; “YOUNG GIRL MURDERED AT CITY HALL”… Under which a long article on administration failure and risks of living of an common civilian was discussed. The girl was identified as Simran Siddique, a 25 yrs old post grad student of arts and music, leaving in hostel and studied in the most prestigious institute of the hill station. The murderer could not be cached till now. But the police was trying. The bullet entered from her neck and got out through the forehead piercing her brain.

- “Ma go!!” said the mother seeing the picture of the dead body in the front page.

- “The girl must have some ill connections. The young generation doesn’t know where they are going.”

Anjali starts shouting at her father at this. She argues, “When hundreds die in a terrorist attack, is it necessary for all of them to have ill connections?”

Suddenly the all fell silent. There was also something else in the news paper except from the murder news. It was a missing ad which drew there attention.

“Simran Sen. D/o Ambareesh Sen… is missing for the last one week. Anyone to give a tip off will be prized Rs. One lakh.”

But it was not only the ad. There was more. What made the family silent was the picture of Simran and the way the girl resembled Anjali.

All the people started staring at them but none approached. Although the prize money was much alluring, but there was another catch. Ambareesh Sen was the most dangerous mafia of the city.

The father said, “Let’s go back my dear, first, a brutal murder in the center of the city; then the picture of my daughter making him the daughter of a mafia kingpin. Oof!!!”

Scene 4:

The den of Ambareesh Sen. In the central room, Ambareesh Sen, a short, fat and bald man ~ age 55 is sitting. With him is his personal manager, Someshwar Singh (45). There is also a woman (age ~35). The woman is wearing a light green shifon saree. Suddenly a young man in his late 20s or early 30s knocks in the glass window. The sound system asks, “Yes?” The man calls the woman. The woman comes out. She is slim, a bit skinny and fair. The waitress in the lounge asks them to go to the private room.

When in the private room, the man tells the whole story to the woman. The man made the woman understand her duties and left.

Scene 5:

The drop scene:

In the taxi stand at Sealdah station, the woman at the den was sitting inside a taxi and the investigator was talking through the window. The taxi started moving towards the A J C Bose road flyover. There were four people in the taxi; the investigator trio and the woman.

The male investigator started telling the whole story. Ambareesh Sen was one of the most dangerous narcotic smugglers in India. He had links to the opium and marijuana fields of Afghanistan and the Middle East market from where the drugs were circulated all over the world. Her only daughter did not have a tip off it. Suddenly one evening everything got revealed to Simran. She could not believe her ears. Her dad was her idol. She became furious. She threatened her father that she will spill the bean in front of the police. The father then drugged her and told everyone that she is gone mad. She was locked in a room and given narcotics on a regular basis. Suddenly Simran managed to flee. Ambareesh got furious. He told his men to shoot her wherever they find simran. Out of mistake, they falsely shot Simran Siddique in the auditorium.

Three people investigator group was applied by CBI. The woman in the den was a CBI employee in the guise of a Bar Dancer… entered the den.

নিরন্তর ভাট

কি লিখব জানি না। একান্তে খুলে বসেছি ভাটের পাতা। ফালতু ব্লগের ফালতু লেখা লিখতে চলে এসেছি কিছু না ভেবেই।

কেন এসেছি জানি না। দিনান্তে খুলে বসেছি ভাটের পাতা। অগাধ জ্ঞান বিতরণ করতে চলে এসেছি কিছু না জেনেই।

কেন জানিনি জানি না। অজান্তে চচ্চড়ি করে ফেলেছি তোমার ঘিলু। তুই এখন রেগেমেগে কোথায় পালাবি ভাবছিস।

আমার ব্লগ পড়িস নি। এখান থেকে পালা। কোনো ভ্যালু পাবি নি। কোনো শক্ত থিয়োরী সহজ করে বোঝানো নেই এতে। জীবনের আপাত সরল প্রতিপাদ্যগুলোকেই জটিল করে ঘাঁটা রয়েছে।

কিছু চারা কথা, কিছু ঝাড়া কথা, কিছু ঘিলু ঘুঁটে ঘুঁটে নাড়া কথা এখানে পড়ে রয়েছে। বেশিক্ষণ থাকিস নি এখানে। যা বুঝেছিস, যা শিখেছিস অ্যাদ্দিনে সব ভুলে যাবি।

পালা... পালা... শীগ্‌গীর পালা।

শুধু দুটি ছবি রেখে যাই...

আজ আর বেশী কথা নয়। শুধু দুটি ছবি রেখে যাই।
প্রথমটি আমার হাইস্কুলের; ইছাপুর নর্থল্যান্ড হাই স্কুল (উঃ মাঃ) -- শেষেরটি ক্যালানিবাচক অব্যয় না।

/\ Ichhapur Northland High School (H.S.)

দ্বিতীয়টি আমার প্রাইমারী স্কুলের; রাজেন্দ্র বিদ্যা মন্দির।

/\ Rajendra Vidya Mandir
Debitala Road, Ichhapur

Soothe & Calm

In a silent night I opened the window of my room to get a feel of wintry chill all over my face. When the vast blackness of the outside world gradually fades in a blur, I reminded you. The outlines of the distant figures can be seen in the faint light of the stars. It is a dark night of new moon. The sky is black as nothing. The distant lampposts are also absent in their usual duty. There is a pond just behind my room. When I open my window, I come face to face of my shadow in the pond. Some fishes are playing in the previously still water. There is a calm but far less than the one I get when I be with you…

RAHMAN

by Joydip Datta

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The previous issues have been included in this post because they needed to be modified a bit. This post thus contains the full story till today.

---

Sometimes time flow so stupidly you often fail to realize that it is actually flowing. You have engaged yourself in some stuff which now seems stupid and baseless. Thinking of the past days of glory... Rahman was lying idle... yet another day of no-output “Yet another day towards the complete bullshit that is going to come.”

Rahman knows very well that the money he has got from the old lady will end soon. And she is not very keen on spending this money either. It pains him a lot to use the money got from a dying lady. When he helped her in drinking water he had no idea of using this courtesy later in life. He also promised her the due funeral (which he kept) but accepting money in return... was a sin. But when the lady said that, "You seem a good boy to me. See, I have this tiny amount of money. But it has no use for me. You keep it dear... You require it more." And she died.

When Rahman was done with the funeral task, he first thought he won't use the money the lady gave him. Somewhere it was pinching. To use the money got in return of putting water in the mouth of a dying lady was strictly unacceptable. But as time passed and his resources were ended, he thought, "Ok... I will not spend the money... but I can borrow a little amount. Dear, when you are hungry, everything else gets less priority than food itself. And the tradition of borrowing continued. And today, that money too was near its end.

What will Rahman do now?

* * *

Rahman was thinking all these stuff while doing his evening namaz. When the namaz was over, he was again angry with himself. While doing a namaz, full concentration should be on Allah. But he was thinking these material problems! He is surely a bad Muslim. He pinched himself again and again for this. His bad mood got worse.

After a while, again the material problems surrounded him. Oh my God! He can at most manage some food for the next morning only. What will he do after that? What will he eat?

With these thoughts that never come to a conclusion, Rahman slowly felt asleep. Rahman was sleeping. Suddenly he saw a man. Dressed like a common farmer. He saw the man working in a coarse field with an axe. When the man saw him he said, "Rahman, you are a very nice child. Just know one thing. If you know your path and can gather enough conviction to keep on walking the path then the energy will eventually come to you. " saying this, the man hit the rough soil hard with his axe. And within the next split second, the coarse field was gone. Instead, there was the eye soothing greenery of a paddy field.

Rahman wake up. He was full with confusion. Who was this man? Was he his father? Rahman had never seen his father before. He has been told that his father died before his birth in a road accident. He was walking drunk when a truck ran over him. Rahman's idea over his father was not that bright. His father was a regular drinker. And if he didn't die in that accident, he would die out of liver failure. That man he saw last night had a kind of glow emerging from him. No. He can not be his father.

Rahman was thinking under the dizzy for quite a long time. Then he tried to get up. He needed to move on… and get somewhere meaningful. The dream was still ringing in his head. The farmer, the green paddy field, the golden axe was still vivid in his eyes. But enough of this lazy dream, he thought. The time was to do something.

But as he tried to get up, he could not. His whole body ached. His head span and Rahman realized that he had fever. “A bit strong one” he thought. He lied down at the same place where he was sitting for a while. And he fell asleep for once again.

There was the paddy field and the farmer too; smiling proudly with his golden axe in hand. Grinning to him the farmer said, “And I will guide you in your path of quest. But it is up to you to find out the markers I provide. Never be afraid my dear. The path will be troublesome. But believe me, that trouble is worthy of it. Just stay noble by heart, and you will succeed. And one last thing, do not get too much upset in seeming me in this way. True religion does not depend on strange rituals.”

Rahman saw it was raining in the field; a heavy rain that made the farmer not visible. And when the rain stopped, the farmer was gone and in the whole field was golden glee of mature grains.

* * *

He woke up for the second time. He was feeling a lot better. In fact, his whole body was experiencing a comfort he never felt before. His fever was gone. By that time it was almost noon. He stood up to get to the nearby food stall to get some food with the last few paisa of the old woman. After eating, when he went to pay the vendor he saw something unusual. He had 3 rupees left. One two rupees coin and a one rupee coin was his last possession. The boiled egg was of rupees two. But there was something very strange with the one rupee. On tail side it was very normal but on head side instead of the national emblem, there was an arrow.

He came back to the lone rock on which he was sitting earlier. He was still puzzled over the dreams. Was He God? Or was just a nonsense outcome of a troubled brain? Did that meant anything or was just gibberish? Who was the man? Was he his father? Or was an incarnation? What he meant by quest? Rahman was surely not in a quest. Every quest has a particular aim… a particular destination. And the very lack of aim and destination was the tragedy of Rahman’s life.

While thinking these, Rahman was tossing with the coin absentmindedly. But then another strange thing happened. Perhaps it was a day of strange things. With utter astonishment, Rahman discovered a pattern when he tossed the coin. The result was always the same… a head. And more than that, the arrow was pointing the same direction every time the coin was tossed. And the direction was pointing the road beside.

“…I will guide you in your path of quest. But it is up to you to find out the markers I provide…” was it a marker? Rahman thought. Was it pointing the path to pursue the quest? Shall Rahman follow the direction the coin was showing?

Rahman did not have any option.

He did not have any path to follow. He was a perfect vagabond. In fact he was grateful to the coin for showing him at least one way go. At least he will not have to ramble in the streets. At least he is getting a mission in life, an aim and a reason to live.

Yes, he will follow the path the coin was showing.

* * *

When he reached the road, Rahman tossed again. To his relief, the coin pointed along the road. It would surely be worse if he had to follow the coin through bushes. Road are always better for walking.

And Rahman walked for the whole day. He tossed the coin to be sure about the direction in every few minutes and the coin always told him to move forward through the same path. He walked, walked and walked. Glad to be in a cause after so many days of rambling here and there. But as he was walking and the day was moving towards dusk, Rahman felt hungry. And as Rahman felt more and more hungry, the urge for quenching the hunger felt more important for him than pursuing a seemingly foolish quest and following a seemingly bogus coin.

When he stopped at a small tea shop beside the road, it was already evening. The visibility was reduced as the sun sat half an hour ago. The tea shop was shabby. The inside of the shop was shadowy. The shop was selling tea, toast, bread etc. As expected in a lone shop in a deserted place, the shop was empty. Only the middle aged shopkeeper woman and an aged person were sitting inside. There were biscuits in glass jars at the front of the oven. On the oven, tea was steaming in a old bowl. The bowl was black outside. The breads were piled on one side of the oven.

Rahman reached the shop. He could only afford one half breads with the one rupee left. But as he was going to pay the woman with the one rupee, the woman responded, “Son, First stop people do not take money from the sacred walkers.” Rahman could not get the meaning. He was too amazed to ask what she meant. The woman said, “Take this bread son.”

As Rahman was leaving the shop, he heard the woman saying to the aged man “Saw him? He is the chosen one.”

Rahman’s ear drums were buzzing. What were these things? What is meant by sacred walkers? What was the meaning of the chosen one? Totally puzzled Rahman stood in front of the shop and tossed the coin again. This time the coin landed vertically.

(May be continued)

শেষমেশ

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এতমাস পরে
পড়ে থাকল শুধু কিছু চেষ্টা।
মিল হওয়ার
খাপ খাওয়ার।।

আর কিছু নেই হাতে।
আছে শুধু চেষ্টার খতিয়ান।

আর কিছু তুলনা...

আমি কি করেছি আর ও কি করেছে...
আমি এটা করেছি তা সত্বেও ও এটা করেছে!
আমি এত করেছি আর ও কি করেছে!
আমার জন্য ও কি করেছে?

আমি চেষ্টা করেছি
চেষ্টা করেগেছি...

মিল হওয়ার
খাপ খাওয়ার।

আমি ওর জন্য কি করেছি?

Taare Zameen Par

“Art is nothing but the expression of your emotion” said Ram Shankar Nikumbh. And from the very beginning we are told to suppress our emotions and do our work. Don’t do what you like to do. Just do what is more fruitful. From the very childhood, we all are puzzled inside a rat race. A never ending competition… where only the first one wins. A kind of maze… parents, relatives, teacher show us the way in. but they themselves don’t know the way out. We all are told to follow a simple rule: study-exam-study-exam and perhaps no learning. “Everybody wants numero uno in their home. And at the end of the game you should be either a doctor or an engineer or else in management.” The core of the story is simple… you should do whatever it takes to be a money earning machine. You should do something that pays you buck. What you are doing is not important. What is important is how much it pays back.

And this game starts right from the childhood. We are told to suppress all those abilities just because the deciders think that they are not that much fruitful. And as we grow up, this idea is well inside our brain. We become a robot who does only those things which it is supposed to do. Other things are simply wastage of time. And when we ourselves become parents we do whatever it takes to enroll the names of our children in this same never ending rat race in which we, ourselves are running, running and running.

This is not a review kind of thing of TZP. But I would like to share the story in a very short way (rather copy pasted it from Wikipedia):

Ishaan Awasthi is an eight-year-old whose world is filled with wonders that no one else seems to appreciate; colours, fish, dogs and kites are just not important in the world of adults, who are much more interested in things like homework, marks and neatness. And Ishaan just cannot seem to get anything right in class.

When he gets into far more trouble than his parents can handle, he is packed off to a boarding school to ‘be disciplined’. Things are no different at his new school, and Ishaan has to contend with the added trauma of separation from his family.

One day a new art teacher bursts onto the scene, Ram Shankar Nikumbh, who infects the students with joy and optimism. He breaks all the rules of ‘how things are done’ by asking them to think, dream and imagine, and all the children respond with enthusiasm, all except Ishaan. Nikumbh soon realizes that Ishaan is very unhappy, and he sets out to discover why. He meets his parents and comes to know about Ishaan's problems of dyslexia and his wonderful world of imagination. He sets out to help Ishaan at any cost. Finally his dream comes true when Ishaan stands out as an Art Scholar and also passes out his annual exams in school. At last Ishaan thanks his teacher Ram for helping him out to create his own world.

We all suffer from more or less the same trouble in the childhood. We can not do as our heart says. Many of us liked drawing, singing or other stuffs. But they have been forced to suppress them to carry on works. And these things don’t stop when we grow up. The difference is when we are young we can fight with teachers or parents to pursue our own liking. But when we grow up, we can not fight anymore because in that case we have to fight with ourselves. We have become a robot who only works and earns and flagellates whenever he doesn’t seem to be working.

Taare Zameen Par is one film that not only entertains you but enlightens you.

ক'দিন আগে গেল পবিত্র ঈদ। ঈদের দিন আমাদের কাছের মুসলমান পাড়ার মধ্যে দিয়ে আমি যাচ্ছিলাম। দেখলাম বাড়িতে বাড়িতে কি সুন্দর আলোর সাজি। ঠিক দীপাবলীর মতো। রাস্তাগুলো আলোর মালায় সাজানো... দুগ্‌গা পুজোর মত। মোড়ে মোড়ে বক্স বাজিয়ে উৎসব চলছে। চারপাশের বাড়ীগুলো থেকে ভেসে আসছে মাংসের গন্ধ। আর দিন যে বাচ্চাগুলো প্রায় উলঙ্গ অবস্থায় রাস্তায় চরে বেড়ায় আজ তাদের গায়েও উঠেছে সস্তার কিন্তু নতুন পোষাক।

কিন্তু, এতসব কিছুর পরেও ঈদ কি ‘আমাদের’ উৎসব হতে পেরেছে। আমার বারো মাসে তেরো পার্বণের মধ্যে ঈদও কি একটা? নাকি ‘ওদের’ উৎসব আর ‘আমাদের’ উৎসব আলাদা?

Let me share a বাংলাদেশী blog here. I read it yesterday.

আবার জিংস!
ডোন্ট ফ্রিক-আউট ম্যাঅ্যাঅ্যাঅ্যান, উই আর জেনারেশন ডি, ডি ফর ডিজুস, ডি ফর জোস। আমগো যে ঝাক্কাস সার্কেল আছে, পোলাপাইনগুলা রক্‌স ম্যান। কয়েকটা খালি পাবলিক ভার্সিটির, অগুলা আমগো মতো হইবার চায়। দে সাক্স, অল আদার্স আর আমগো লাহান। আমরা যেই ফান করি, টাইমগুলা জোশের উপ্‌রে কাটাই।

হালার প্যানপ্যানাইন্না পিরিত করি না। অ্যাফেয়ার মানে মেইক আউট, নইলে ড্রপ আউট। আজাইরা ফাক অ্যারাউন্ড করি না।

আমগো আগের জ্যানারেশন, ওফ বোরিং। সারাদিন পড়ে, আর কি ড্যাম থিংস ওর্ন করে। আমগো ফ্যামিলিয়ার অ্যাকটা ব্রাদার আছে, অনন্ত ব্রাদার। কয়,
তোমরা কবিতা পড়ো না? রবীন্দ্রসঙ্গীত শোন না? তোমরা তো জেনারেশন ডি না, ডিজেনারেশন।

হালায় কয় কি? অনার সম্মান রাইখাই কই -
ডোন্ট ফাক অ্যারাউন্ড ম্যাঅ্যাঅ্যাঅ্যান, লেট্‌স রক! মাই ড্যাডির সং শুনবেন ক্যান? আর আমরা কালচারেই আছি, মেটাল ব্যান্ড আছে আমগো। দুইডা গানও পাতসি: উই আর দ্য ব্লাড হাউন্ড - ঘ্যাং ঘ্যাং - ডোন্ট ইউ ফাক অ্যারাউন্ড - ঘ্যাং ঘ্যাং -

আবার জিংস !

Rahman (2nd issue)

Get the previous issue here

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Rahman was thinking all these stuff while doing his evening namaz. When the namaz was over, he was again angry with himself. While doing a namaz, full concentration should be on allah. But he was thinking these material problems! He is surely a bad Muslim. He pinched himself again and again for this. His bad mood got worse.

After a while, again the material problems surrounded him. Oh my God! He can at most manage some food for the next morning only. What will he do after that? What will he eat?

With these thoughts that never come to a conclusion, Rahman slowly felt asleep. Rahman was sleeping. Suddenly he saw a man. Dressed like a common farmer. He saw the man working in a coarse field with an axe. When the man saw him he said, "Rahman, you are a very nice child. Just know one thing. If you know your path and can gather enough conviction to keep on walking the path then the energy will eventually come to you." saying this, the man hit the rough soil hard with his axe. And within the next split second, the coarse field was gone. Instead, there was the eye soothing greenery of a paddy field.

Rahman wake up. He was full with a comfort he never felt before. But who was this man? Was he his father? Rahman had never seen his father before. He has been told that his father died before his birth in a road accident. He was walking drunk when a truck ran over him. Rahman's idea over his father was not that bright. His father was a regular drinker. And if he didn't die in that accident, he would die out of liver failure. That man he saw last night had a kind of glow emerging from him. No. He can not be his father.

(may be continued...)

Ok now let me put a old poem here. It was written in collaboration with Abhijit some time in class XI I suppose.

রঙ ছড়ানো সোনালী রোদের মায়া
জীবন স্বপনে লাগে গ্লানির ধোঁয়া
হঠাৎ কোথায় ওঠে ঝোড়ো তুফান
নিভিয়ে দেয় ঝরা জীবনের বাতি।

স্বার্থের কালি মাখা দেশপ্রেম আজ
সীমান্তে লাগে তাই বারুদের আঁচ
ধোঁয়া হয়ে উড়ে যায় সব প্রতিবাদ
দুঃস্বপ্ন নিয়ে কাটে ভয়ানক রাত
হঠাৎ কোথায় ওঠে ঝোড়ো তুফান
নিভিয়ে দেয় ঝরা জীবনের বাতি।

দিনের দিশারী ওই সূর্য্যটা ডোবে
ভালবাসা শেষ হয় এক পলকে
কাঁটার ঝোপের মাঝে স্বপ্ন আবাদ
হাওয়া হয়ে ভেসে যায় অপূর্ণ সাধ
হঠাৎ কোথায় ওঠে ঝোড়ো তুফান
নিভিয়ে দেয় ঝরা জীবনের বাতি।

মায়াবী রাতে রূপালী চাঁদের আলো
মনের কোণে হাজার মন্দ-ভালো
হঠাৎ কোথায় ওঠে ঝোড়ো তুফান
নিভিয়ে দেয় ঝরা জীবনের বাতি।

উপকারী যদি উপকারের কথা স্মরণে রাখে তাহলে তাকে উপকার বলে না; কৃপা করা বলে। মানুষের উপকার কোরো কিন্তু কখনও কৃপা করতে যেও না। হিতে বিপরীত হবে।
- গভীরানন্দ উবাচ।।

The Stock Market simply illustrated. ... is there a lesson here?

Once upon a time in a village, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for Rs10. The villagers seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest and started catching them. The man bought thousands at Rs10 and as supply started to diminish, the villagers stopped their effort. He further announced that he would now buy at Rs20. This renewed the efforts of the villagers and they started catching monkeys again. Soon the supply diminished even further and people started going back to their farms. The offer rate increased to Rs25 and the supply of monkeys became so little that it was an effort to even see a monkey let alone catch it.

The man now announced that he would buy monkeys at Rs50! However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on behalf of him. In the absence of the man, the assistant told the villagers. Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has collected. I will sell them to you at Rs35 and when the man returns from the city, you can sell it to him for Rs50." The villagers squeezed up with all their savings to buy the monkeys.

Then they never saw the man nor his assistant, only monkeys everywhere!! !!

Welcome to the Market!!!!!

(Received via email from my friend Ayan)

Rahman

---

Sometimes time flows so stupidly that you often fail to realize that it is actually flowing. You have engaged yourself in some stuffs which now seems stupid and baseless. Thinking of the past days of glory... Rahman was lying in the bed idle... yet another day of no-output. Yet another day towards the complete bullshit that is going to come.

Rahman knows very well that the money he has got from the old lady will end soon. And she is not very keen on spending this money either. It pains him a lot to use the money got from a dying lady. When he helped her in drinking water he had no idea of using this courtesy later in life. He also promised her the due funeral (which he did) but accepting money in return... was a sin. But when the lady said that, "You seem a good boy to me. See, i have this tiny amount of money. But it has no use for me. You keep it dear... You require it more." And she died.

When Rahman was done with the funeral task, he first thought he won't use the money the lady gave him. Somewhere it was pinching. To use the money got in return of putting water in the mouth of a dying lady was strictly unacceptable. But as time passed and his resources was ended, he thought, "Ok... I will not spend the money... but i can borrow a little amount. Dear, when you are hungry, everything else gets less priority than food itself. And the silsila of borrowing continued. And today, that money too was near it's end.

What will Rahman do now?

আমার ব্লগের ঠিকানা বদলের কাজ চলছে... নিরন্তর ভাট এবার থেকে যাতে নিরন্তর ভাটেই পাওয়া যায় সেই চেষ্টা চলছে। আপাততঃ বিটা পর্যায়ে, কিন্তু তা সারা হয়ে যাবে খুব শীগ্‌গীরি...

নতুন ঠিকানা: http://nirantarbhat.blogspot.com

তোমার জন্য...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

যদি বলো সূর্য্যটাকে ধরে নিয়ে আসতে পারি

যদি বলো হাঃ হাঃ করে হাসতে পারি

যদি বলো হিঃ হিঃ করে হাসতে পারি

যদি বলো শীতের রাতে বরফ জলে নাইতে পারি

যদি বলো মাঝরাতে আমি গলা ছেড়ে গান গাইতে পারি

যদি বলো যখন তখন তোমার কাছে আসতে পারি

যদি বলো তোমায় আমি আরো ভালবাসতে পারি।।

আমার সঙ্গে দুর্ব্যবহার যা তুমি করেছো,

তা সবই আমার প্রাপ্য ছিল।

ভাল ব্যবহার করেছো যেটুকু,

তা তোমার অনুগ্রহ।

বিদায় বোলোনা তবু তুমি আজ

বোলো দুঃখ দেওয়াটাই হিংস্র রেওয়াজ।

আমার চোখের তুচ্ছ অশ্রুকণা...

দিলাম শেষ উপহার।।

ভেসে যায় নিষ্ঠুর রাত চারপেয়ে।

ভেসে যাই আমিও তোমার দাঁড় পেয়ে।।

ভেসে যাই আমরা দুজন পাল তুলে।

ভেসে যাই ছেড়ে যতসব ফালতু লেন।।

একসাথে আজ এই দুটি প্রাণ একলা হোক;

ভেসে যাক দুজনার চার আলগা ঠোঁট।।

আজকে আমি তোমার সাথে একলা যে...

ক্লান্ত জীবন তোমার কাছেই নীড় খোঁজে।

তোমার চোখেই দেখতে পেলাম দিগন্ত,

হাত ধরে মোরা পার হয়ে যাব অনন্ত।

বাঁচছি তোমায় আজকে শ্বাসে-প্রশ্বাসে

ফুরাবে এই বাঁচা জেনো শেষ নিঃশ্বাসে।।

Blushing away in a measured glee...
We flee.
We flee from the way we once had been.
We flee from the way with end unseen.
Making the end of that endless spree
We flee......

- Joydip Datta

মাপা মাপা কথা আর মেপেজুপে হাসি
তবুও কি আমি আজও দোলাচলে ভাসি?
ভেসে যাই আবারো পুরনো সে পথে?
মনকে শক্ত করে ভুলি কোনোমতে
রাত্রির শেষে পাওয়া নরম শিশির
কুড়িয়ে নিয়ে ভাসি...
নিয়ে মাপা মাপা কথা আর বিষণ্ণ হাসি।।

Being Alone in Gloom

I know i should not blog these. Writing these silly stuffs or sharing pain in my blog was a strict no-no. This goes against the very nature of my blog. And people may not like these stuffs also... But i will write. I need at least one place to shout. At least one place to speak my mind.

So go on and read... read even if you don't like it. Read even if your good mood crashes in reading these useless stuffs. Read it for me. If you think me important enough to pay attention, then please read.

Gloomed in a mist of laziness... and getting madder every moment by seeing myself not doing anything; the day was moving towards dusk. There are times when all of your works suddenly seems to be of no value. All you have got in life suddenly seems to be meaningless. You are amidst the darkness of a gloom seemingly everlasting. Nothing is going on right...

People, if they are with you, do feel blessed. But if they are not, you will still manage to live. Isn't it?

We all are alone in this universe. And you need to get your jobs done by yourself only. No one is going to help you. You have to find the way out yourself. And this is not always a bad idea. Knowing that you are alone... knowing that no one will make things any easier for you... gives you a strength to fight. Not fight back but fight your way ahead.

We are all surrounded by different people. But when we shut our eyes we are perfectly alone. I with me and myself... and know it right, this trio can not be neglected.

There are pressures... but these are things you need to handle alone. Your pleasure will be shared by many people... and this is important also. Happiness means nothing if not shared. But you have to pass your hard time all alone. Because everyone else's situation is different. Everyone else's angle is different.

Do you know why i am sad? I am sad because there is no one who understands why i am sad. Maybe even myself do not know the proper reason. But no one seems to accept that i am not as happy as i seem to be. I am not as happy as you think is normal at my situation and circumstances. There is no place from where i can get some solace. Everywhere my reasons to be sad is too small. Their situation is more grave than mine so they should be unhappy; not i.

Or perhaps this is my very nature. I love the gloom of a lazy sadness...

Relishing the sorrow, relishing the pain,
Relishing the bit of poison running in my vein
Finding the path to the unknown-unseen
I want to say good bye to the world i had been.
I'm dipped in the sadness of utmost despair.
Things will be better when i won't be here.
All bright candles have darkness beneath.
Hope that'll be removed when i'll get death.

- Joydip Datta

রেগেমেগে লেখা কবিতা
---------------------------------------
একলা বাতায়নেতে দাঁড়িয়ে আছো তুমি
কার প্রতীক্ষায়?
আমার তো নয়...

তোমার জন্য একদিন কেঁদেছিল মন
সেই ইতিহাস
এখনো আমায় কাঁদায়

এখন বিষাদ শুধু জমে আছে এ বুকের চরে
সেই বিষাদে আছড়ে পড়ে নদীর ঢেউ...
আমায় ভাসায়।

তোমায় দেখেও দেখিনা আজকাল...
কিংবা দেখতে ভয় পাই সোজাসুজি
যদি আবার কেঁদে ওঠে মন সেই ভয়

কিন্তু তবু সারাক্ষণ হতাশায় থাকি...
কেন কইতে পারিনি কথা
চোখের ভাষায়!

“দাদুভাই কই? ”

The timid voice of an old man… Noticeably weak is on the other side of the telephone.

I could not figure it out. So I said, “What number do you want?”

- “2540 8403”

Well! That really is our home phone number. But who the hell is this DADUBHAI? See, I have many things to do. And a silly wrong number is strictly not welcome at this point of time.

- “আপনি কে কথা বলছেন?”
- “আনন্দমোহন বন্দ্যোপাধ্যায়”

[Actually I can not recall the actual name at this moment. It might be Pranmohon or perhaps Pranmoy or Anandamoy… that is all four possible combinations…]


I was irritated this time. May be I suspected (blackish brain of 2007 – Always suspects everyone) some silly friend of mind is playing a perhaps more silly joke.

My voice was firmer this time,

- “Err… Sorry! But this is a wrong number supposed to be.”

No this was not a friend’s silly joke as my ma entered the room and said, “Is this the DADUBHAI call I am getting since yesterday?”

And the phone rang again.

- “দাদুভাই কই?”
- “আপনি কে কথা বলছেন বলুন তো!”
- “দাদুভাই কই? দাদুভাইকে দাও।”
- “দাদুভাই এর নামটা kindly বলবেন?”
- “অরিন্দম ব্যানার্জ্জী”
- “Err… Sorry! But ওই নামে এই বাড়ীতে কেউ কাউকে চেনে না”

The line was cut. And I had no time for keep thinking this madly Dadu and his gone_for_ever Dadubhai. May be his son was too careless I giving his father the correct phone numbered. Or perhaps he intentionally gave his father the wrong number so that he could not disturb him over phone.

But I don’t blame the son. The way the things might have been gone is just normal I think. It is perhaps the damn result of prioritizing studies in a way too much in the childhood. All a boy (or a girl… of course… now a days) needs to do from his childhood is study. He should not notice anything else. He should not spend time with friends, relatives or may be even with parents. All he needs to do is study, study and study. And this habit injected by the parents and the society doesn’t simply go when the child grows up.

I know this piece is becoming and boring essay (sort of). But still, I do not blame the son. When he did not paid attention to anything else than study… this habit was cultivated by the parents themselves and the parents took pride in it. In that case, how can be he blamed when he doesn’t pay attention to the parents themselves.

I know you are feeling bored. So let me stop these and concentrate on a childhood story (my imagination) of that boy…

One day the masi of the boy came at their home. The boy was present in the living room chatting with the relatives and sometimes playing with his cousin. And his masi goes on like this:

- “আমার মেজভাসুরের ছেলে। জানিস দিদি? ওরে, তুই জাস্ট কল্পনা করতে পারবি না... কীইইইই পড়েএএএ। ধর্‌ তুই ওদের বাড়ী গেছিস, দিদি তুই বুঝতেই পারবিনা ছেলে বাড়ী আছে। ঠিক নিজের ঘরে দরজা বন্ধ করে পড়ছে। যাওবা বাইরে এল, দুচারটে কথাবার্তা হল, আবার ঘরে গিয়ে বই নিয়ে। আর রেজাল্টও করে সেই রকম... এইচেসে আটশো পঞ্চাশ। আর জয়েন্টে কত জানিস দিদি?”

- “কত?”

- “চারশো কত যেন। সাড়ে চারশোর নিচে... অ্যাই বলো না কত”

- “চারশো পঁয়ত্রিশ” Meshomoshai answers.

And when the relatives leave, ma comes to his room.

- “দেখলি?”

- “কি দেখব?”

“ওই মাসী যে ছেলেটার কথা বলছিল। দেখলি? অধ্যাবসায় কাকে বলে?”

“কেন?”

“দেখলি না? কেমন দরজা বন্ধ করে একমনে পড়ে? চারপাশে কী হচ্ছে কোনোদিকে তাকায় না। আর তুই? যেই বাড়ীতে কেউ একটা এল, বড়দের মাঝখানে বসে হ্যা হ্যা করছিস”

(His cousin was also present among the adults… but that is not the point.)

“আমি আবার কখন হ্যা হ্যা করলাম? আমি তো চুপ করেই...”

“আর যবে থেকে ওই নতুন টিউশানটাতে ভর্তি হয়েছে, সেই থেকে এই মুখে মুখে তর্ক করা আরম্ভ হয়েছে। আর রোজরোজ বন্ধুদের সঙ্গে আড্ডা। ভালছেলেদের সঙ্গে তো আর বন্ধুত্ব নেই! যতরাজ্যের লোফার ছেলেগুলোর সাথে দিনরাত চরে বেড়াচ্ছে!”

“তুমি এখন যাও। আমি পড়ব।”

“হ্যাঁ! মায়ের কথা ভাল লাগবে কেন? এই এক্ষুণি বন্ধুরা ডাকলে তো ড্যাং ড্যাং করে বেরিয়ে যেতিস।”


The boy didn’t answer. He knows very well that the best tactic at this point is keeping silence. After a while ma feds up and leaves the room. But something was going on in the boy’s brain. A decision was being taken. If talking and spending time with friends and relatives mean you are not concentrating on studies… then he might not be with ultimately anyone… not even with his parents.

(may be continued…)

কেন আবার মনে পড়িয়ে দিলে পুরনো কথা?
আমি তোমার আছি, তোমারই থাকব। পুরনো কথা বাতুলতা।
রেখেছি বাঁধা তোমার কাছে
আমার সকল যন্ত্রণা যে।
আমায় আবার পিছে টানে এতখানি তার নেই ক্ষমতা।

আজকে আমি তোমার সাথে একলা যে।
ক্লান্ত জীবন তোমার কাছেই নীড় খোঁজে।

প্রথম চাঁদের মত প্রবাদ শরীর গ্রাস করে।
এত চাই!
এত পেতে চাওয়া!!

কিন্তু সেদিনও যতটা দূরে ছিলে, আজও ততটাই আছো।
সরে আসবার মূল্য দিতে দিতে বেলা শেষ হয়ে যায়।

সন্ধ্যে নামলে দেখি, সমস্ত পথই আসলে ঘুরপথ।

তোমাকে চাওয়ার।

(কে বলল আমার ব্লগে শুধু আমার কবিতাই থাকবে?)

হ্যারী পটার এবং জিয়নকাঠি

কিছু নির্বাচিত অংশ এখানে অনুবাদের চেষ্টা করা হল।।

---

ঊনবিংশ অধ্যায়

স্বর্ণমৃগ

সেদিন হারমাইনির যখন পাহারা দেওয়ার পালা পড়ল তখন প্রায় মাঝরাত। বাইরে বরফ পড়ছে। হ্যারীর দুচোখে আবার দুঃস্বপ্নের ছায়া। নাগিনী যেন চারপাশে ঘুরে বেড়াচ্ছে। হ্যারী ধড়মড়িয়ে জেগে উঠল। কে যেন তাকে দূর থেকে ডাকছে। তাঁবুর বাইরের শনশন বাতাসের শব্দ যেন কাদের পায়ের আওয়াজ, গলার শব্দ।

শেষপর্যন্ত্য সে উঠে গিয়ে হারমাইনির পাশে গিয়ে বসল। হারমাইনি তখন তাঁবুর দরজার কাচছে গুটিসুটি মেরে তার জাদুদন্ডের আলোয় জাদুবিদ্যার ইতিহাস পড়ছিল। চারপাশে মুষলধারে বরফ পড়ছিল। তাই হ্যারী যখন তাকে চটপট এই জায়গা ছেড়ে অন্য জায়গায় তাঁবু ফেলার আইডিয়া দিল তখন সে হ্যাঁ বলল।

... ... ...

Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior's identity

কে তাকে বাঁচাল সেটা লক্ষ্য করার মত শক্তি তখন হ্যারীর ছিল না। সমস্ত শক্তি জড় করে সে তার গলার কাছে হাত বুলিয়ে দেখল লকেটটা আছে কি না। না নেই। তার মাংসের মধ্যে কেটে যে লকেটটা বসে গেছিল, সেটাকে কেউ ছাড়িয়ে নিয়েছে। তারপরই হাঁপাতে হাঁপাতে কে যেন বলে উঠল,

"তুই কি খেপেছিস নাকি?"

শুধুমাত্র ওই কন্ঠস্বরের ধাক্কাটাই হ্যারীকে উঠে বসার শক্তি যোগাল। তার সামনে দাঁড়িয়ে আছে রন; সমস্ত কাপড় জবজবে ভিজে, এক হাতে গ্রীফিন্ডোরের তরবারী আর অন্যহাতে সেই প্রাণভোমরা।

"কি কান্ড করছিস বলতো এখানে?" প্রাণভোমরাটা হাতে শক্ত করে ধরে রন বলল। "মালটা না খুলেই জলে নেবেছিলি?"

হ্যারীর কাছে কোনো উত্তর ছিল না। রন আবার ফিরে এসেছে, তার তুলনায় স্বর্ণমৃগ কিচ্ছু না। তার তো বিশ্বাসই হচ্ছিল না। কাঁপতে কাঁপতে পুকুরের ধারে স্তুপ করে রাখা জামাকাপড় হ্যারী একটা একটা করে গায়ে ঢোকাতে লাগল। খালি মনে হতে লাগল এই বুঝি রন অদৃশ্য হয়ে যাবে। কিন্তু তা নয়, রন সত্যি ফিরে এসেছে। এইমাত্র সে পুকুরে ঝাঁপ দিয়ে তাকে বাঁচিয়েছে।

"ত-তুই?" অবশেষে হ্যারী বলল।

"ইয়ে মানে... হ্যাঁ।" একটু বিচলিত হয়ে রন বলল।

"হরিণটা তুই বানিয়েছিলি?"

"কী? ইয়ে, না। আমিতো ভাবলাম তুই করেছিস ওটা।"

"আমার পেট্রোনাস একটা ছাতার মত।"

... ...

"খুলিস না। আমি সিরিয়াসলি বলছি"

"কেন? না কেন? মাসের পর মাস ধরে বহুত ভুগিয়েছে। এবার মালটাকে ছাড়ব না"

"আমি পারবনা হ্যারী। সিরিয়াস। তুই কর।"

"কিন্তু কেন?"

"কারন আমি পারিনা এটার সঙ্গে" লকেটটা যে পাথরের ওপর রাখা ছিল সেটার থেকে থেকে দুপা পিছিয়ে গিয়ে রন বলল। "আমি পারিনা এটাকে হ্যান্ডেল করতে। আমি কোন অজুহাত দিচ্ছিনা। তুই দেখলি তো কি হয়েছিল... তোর বা হারমাইনির চেয়ে আমার ওপর এটা বেশী এফেক্ট করে। অদ্ভুত অদ্ভুত জিনিস ভাবতে থাকতাম আমি এটা পরলে। ম্‌-মানে এমনিতেই হয়তো সেগুলো ভাবতাম আমি... কিন্তু এটা সমস্তটাকে আরো... আরো বিচ্ছিরি করে দিত। আমি ঠিক বোঝাতে পারছি না... কিন্তূ এটা খুলে ফেললেই আবার সব ঠিকঠাক হয়ে যেত। আমি... আমি পারবনা হ্যারী।"

রন পিছিয়ে গেছে। তরবারীটা তার হাত থেকে ঝুলছে। তার মাথার ঝাঁকুনি যেন থামছেই না।

"তুই পারবি" হ্যারী বলল, "পারবি তুই। তরবারীটা তুই পেয়েছিস; তাই সেটাকে ব্যবহারও তোকেই করতে হবে। প্লিজ রন, এসব ছেড়ে বেরিয়ে আয়।"

তার নামের উচ্চারন যেন রনকে একটু হলেও উদ্বুদ্ধ করল। রন ঢোঁক গিলে, তার লম্বা নাক দিয়ে একটা লম্বা শ্বাস নিয়ে পাথরটার দিকে এগিয়ে এল।

"বলবি কখন।" রন চেঁচিয়ে বলল।

"তিন গোণার পর।" হ্যারী বলল। খুব মনযোগ দিয়ে এবার হ্যারী লকেটটার দিকে তাকাল। লকেটটার যেখানে এস্‌ লেখা আছে সেটা যেন একটা সাপ। ফাঁদে পড়া আরশোলার মত লকেটটা তখন লাফাচ্ছে। খুব সহজেই এটাকে দয়া দেখান যেত, যদিনা হ্যারীর গলায় কাটা দাগটা তখন টনটন করত।

"এক... দুই... তিন... খুলে যাও "

শেষ শব্দদুটো হ্যারীর গলা দিয়ে হিস্‌হিসানির মত বেরিয়ে এল। আর কুট্‌ করে শব্দ করে লকেটটা খুলে গেল।

লকেটের ভেতরে পলক ফেলল জ্বলজ্বলে একটা চোখ। সাপের চোখের মত হয়ে যাওয়ার আগে টম রিড্‌লের চোখ যেমন ছিল ঠিক তেমনি।

"মার্‌।" হ্যারী লকেটটাকে পাথরর ওপর শক্ত করে ধরে বলল।

কাঁপা কাঁপা হাতে রন তরবারীটা তুলল। তরবারীর ডগাটা সেই কুতকুতে চোখের ওপর দুলতে লাগল। হ্যারী লকেটটাকে শক্ত করে ধরল। সে এখনই কল্পনা করতে পাচ্ছে যে লকেটটার থেকে রক্ত গড়িয়ে আসছে।

ঠিক তখনই প্রাণভোমরার মধ্য থেকে একটা তীক্ষ্ণ গলার স্বর ভেসে এল।

"তোমার হৃদয় আমি দেখেছি। আর এখন সেটা আমার "

"শুনিস না এটার কথা" কর্কশ গলায় হ্যারী বলে উঠল, "মার এটাকে"

"আমি তোমার স্বপ্নগুলো দেখেছি, রোনাল্ড উইজ্‌লি। আর আমি তোমার ভয় গুলোও দেখেছি। তুমি যা চাও তা সম্ভব ত্যি হতে পারে। আবার তুমি যেটা ভয় পাও সেটাও হতে পারে"

"মার্‌!" চীৎকার করে উঠল হ্যারী। আশপাশের গাছে হ্যারীর গলার স্বর ধ্বনিত-প্রতিধ্বনিত হতে লাগল। তরবারীর ডগাটা কেঁপে উঠল। রন একদৃষ্টিতে টম রিড্‌লের চোখের দিকে তাকিয়ে আছে।

"কেউ ভালবাসে না। কোনদিন না। মা একটা মেয়ে চেয়েছিল, হয়ে গেল ছেলে। ... কেউ ভালবাসে না। ... আর এখন... তুমি যাকে ভালবাস, সে তোমার বন্ধুকে চায়। সমস্ত জায়গায় দ্বিতীয়... তোমার কৃতিত্ব কেউ কোনদিন বুঝল না।"

"রন, এক্ষুণি মার্‌ এটাকে।" গলা ফাটিয়ে চীৎকার করে উঠল হ্যারী। তার হাতের মুঠোয় লকেটটার কাঁপুনিটা হ্যারী অনুভব করতে পারছিল। এর পর কী হতে পারে সেটা আন্দাজ করে হ্যারী সন্ত্রস্ত হয়ে পড়েছিল। রন তরবারীটাকে আরও উঁছু করল। আর তার সঙ্গেসঙ্গেই রিড্‌লের চোখ রাঙা হয়ে জ্বলে উঠল।"

লকেটটার দুটি কপাটের মধ্য দিয়ে, রিড্‌লের সেই চোখের মধ্য দিয়ে ভাঙা ভাঙা বুদ্বুদের মত হ্যারী আর হারমাইনির মুখ ফুটে উঠল।

রন চীৎকার করে পেছনে সরে গেল। আর লকেটের ভেতর থেকে দুটি মুর্তি ফুটে উঠল। প্রথমে বুক, তারপর কোমর, তারপর পা। একসময় তারা লকেটের মধ্যে পাশাপাশি একটা গাছের দুটি ডালের মত দাঁড়িয়ে রইল আর ঘুরে ঘুরে রন আর আসল হ্যারীকে দেখতে লাগল। হ্যারী ততক্ষণে আগুন গরম হয়ে যাওয়া প্রাণভোমরার থকে হাতটা সরিয়ে নিয়েছে।

"রন!" হ্যারী চেঁচিয়ে উঠল। কিন্তু ততক্ষণে ভোল্ডেমর্টের গলায় রিড্‌ল-হ্যারী কথা বলতে আরম্ভ করেছে। আর রন হতভম্বের মত সেই দিকে চেয়ে আছে।

"কেন ফিরলি? তোকে ছাড়া আমরা বেশ ছিলাম। তুই থাকাকালীন যেমন ছিলাম তার চেয়ে ভাল। তোর অনুপস্থিতির ভরপুর মজা নিয়েছি আমরা। তোর গাধামো, তোর কাপুরুষতা, তোর স্ব-অনুমান নিয়ে কম হাসাহাসি করেছি আমরা?"

'স্ব-অনুমান।" রিড্‌ল-হারমাইনির গলায় প্রতিধ্বনির সুর। এই হারমাইনি আসলের চেয়েও সুন্দরী আর আরও ভয়ানক। দুলে দুলে আর রনের দিকে চেয়ে একটা বিচ্ছিরি হাসি হেসে সে বলে উঠল। রনের মুখ দেখলে তখন ভয় লাগবে। তবুও সে অসাড়ের মত দাঁড়িয়ে রইল। তরবারীটা তখনও তার হাত থেকে ঝুলছে। "হ্যারী পটারকে ছেড়ে কে তোর দিকে তাকাবে বল্‌তো? কে তোর দিকে তাকাবে? ওর তুলনায় তুই করেছিসটাকী সারাজীবনে? অনির্বাণ-বালকের তুলনায় তুই কী? "

"রন, মার এটাকে... মার এটাকে..." হ্যারী চেঁচিয়ে উঠল। কিন্তু রন একচুলও নড়ল না। তার বিস্ফারিত চোখে রিড্‌ল-হ্যারী আর রিড্‌ল-হারমাইনির ছায়া দেখা যাচ্ছিল। আগুনের শিখার মত লেলিহান তাদের চুল, চোখ রক্তবর্ণ আর গলার স্বরে উচ্চগ্রামে চীৎকার করছে শয়তানি মাখা এক দ্বৈতকন্ঠ।

"তোর মা তো স্বীকারই করল।" ব্যাঙ্গের হাসি হেসে রিড্‌ল-হ্যারী বলে উঠল। সেই সঙ্গে রিড্‌ল-হারমাইনিও তাল দিল, "যে তোর চেয়ে আমাকেই ছেলে হিসাবে তাঁর বেশী পছন্দ। পারলে পাল্টাপাল্টি করে নেন!"

"কে ও-কে চাইবেনা বল্‌তো? কোন মেয়ে তোকে নেবে? ও-র তুলনায় তুই কিস্যু না, কিস্যু না" রিড্‌ল-হারমাইনি গুনগুনিয়ে বলে উঠল। আর তারপরই সাপের মত লম্বা হয়ে রিড্‌ল-হ্যারীকে পাক দিয়ে সে জড়িয়ে ধরল। জড়িয়ে ধরল এক গভীর আলিঙ্গনে। আর তাদের ঠোঁটের সঙ্গে ঠোঁট মিলে গেল।

মাটির ওপরে তাদের সামনে তখন রাগে-দুঃখে রনের মুখ ভরে উঠেছে। সে আবার তরবারীটা তুলে ধরল। থরথর করে তার হাত কাঁপছে।

"মার্‌ রন!" হ্যারী আবার চেঁচাল।

রন তার দিকে তাকাল। আর হ্যারীর কেমন যেন মনে হল রনের চোখদুটিও যেন রাঙ্গা।

"রন --?"

<ক্রমশঃ প্রকাশ্য...>

BOW BARRACKS FOREVER

The wind in my ally,

The dust in my eyes,

The chill on my dirty raincoat…

Reminds me of you;

The song haven’t written

The story untold

An old man traveling alone…

Reminds me of you;

The empty city streets that don’t dream anymore

And old midnight coyer that don’t sound like before

The very sweet memory of a holy mind

The elegy of an old sunshine

Reminds me of you;

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever… … …

Red brick walls against the gray sky

Stands with the head held high

Reminds me of you;

The old horse cart

With the fragrance of plumb

Rusting kerosene lamp

Reminds me of you;

And thyme smile that creeps through the door

Rolling stone circus that don’t sound like before

The years in grace that fills an empty soul

The tree that never goes old

Reminds me of you;

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever

Bow barracks forever… … …

... (হরিদাসের বুলবুলভাজার সুরে)

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মার্চ গেল, এপ্রিল গেল, মে গেল তাই এসেছে জুন.

কিছুটা সেই ফ্রাস্টুতে,
ভুল করি টু প্লাস টু তে।
চারপাশে বৌদির সংখ্যা বাড়ছে যে তাই ছুটেছে ঘুম।
মার্চ গেল, এপ্রিল গেল, মে গেল তাই এসেছে জুন.

সামনে সেম আর পিছনে বাঁশ।
করছে যে তাই প্রাণ হাঁসফাঁস।
রাত্রি এলেই চেপে ধরে একলা-ফোকলা নিঃস্ব-নিঝুম।
মার্চ গেল, এপ্রিল গেল, মে গেল তাই এসেছে জুন.

আর কী গরম দিয়েছো দাদা!
মাথার ঘামে রাস্তা কাদা।
জল খেয়েছি খাইনি আদা। চাঁদ এসে তাই দেয়নি যে চুম।।
মার্চ গেল, এপ্রিল গেল, মে গেল তাই এসেছে জুন.

- জয়দীপ দত্ত – ০২/০৬/০৭ – ০২:০০ অপরাহ্ন

CYCLE
- Joydip Datta
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The story is on Debojeet, Debojeet Sinha. Deepanjan Sinha is his Grandpa. This is 2070 and the story is not a science fiction.

The story starts in the year 2006. It was the day after the marriage ceremony of Deepanjan with Suchismita Roy, his grandma. They were going to have a honeymoon in Darjeeling but a landslide prevented them.

* * *

“So, Suchi, finally we’re going to Digha” – said Deepanjan.

“Oh No! Deep, not Digha please. I have gone to the seas three times before. And I personally don’t like the seas that much.” –said Suchi.

“Hey! What’s the problem? We will not go to the sea. OK?”

After a good deal of discussion they finally accepted Digha for their honeymoon.


“At last we are at Digha. How do you feel Suchi?”

“Not bad!”

“Things will be better when we will be inside the hotel room.”

After a pause of one second or two, Deep again started,

“Well! Suchi, I hope you’ll understand. The moment that passes on does not come back. But we can surely try to sustain our good moments.”

“What do you mean?” – said Suchi, who somehow could guess what he meant.

“I mean to say that I want to catch our whole deeds in my handy cam and want to keep it for us when time will fade away our passion.”

“Good Heavens! You mean to say you want to make a porn movie out on us!” – Suchi said angrily.

Although Suchi showed anger in the out side, internally she also wanted that thrill. But she was somehow reluctant. Partly because she was not sure if her morality supported the act, partly because she was pretty anxious and mostly because she had a fear that if the video somehow went public, then it will ruin their life. She had watched some porn which was actually private videos of couples and later came in bazaar.

Suchi continued, “Can you imagine, what will happen if the video goes public?”

“That will never happen” said Deep. “I will personally edit the movie in my computer. No third person will know anything about this. We will keep the video in a password protected archive with 12 digit password. First six digits will be yours and the last six digits of the password will be mine. The video can not be opened without both of us.”

This time Suchi looked pretty convinced. She agreed.

The full charm of their love kept secure inside a 12 digit password protected archive in a very personal CD ROM.

No, that video never became public. It remained in their heart as a constant charm of their youth. It remained as a sustained glory of their love. It remained as the most precious possession of both of them.

* * *

Time rolled on. Debojeet, Grandson of Deepanjan Sinha, only son of his only son is 20 now and his grandpa is 80.

The health of his grandma Suchismita Sinha is not pretty well these days. Her time in this earth has ended. She is waiting for her call.

When the call is issued, the concerned person can feel that. So does Suchismita. Knowing her end, she called Deepanjan and said,

“Now… dear… it is the time … when I should … I should disclose my part of password to you.”

“No! No Suchi! Don’t say that way. It hurts.”

With a dull smile Mrs. Sinha replied, “Now when I will not be there, you should be able to open the archive on your own. You must not be deprived of your most precious possession”

There were only tears for Deepanjan.

That night, Mrs. Suchismita Sinha passed away.

* * *

Debojeet, eventually, overheard every thing from behind the curtain. He could guess what the precious possession was. For many days he noticed that his grandpa had a CD which he always kept with himself wherever he goes. Debojeet suspected that there must be some thing very interesting. He had even managed to steal the CD for some hours and made a copy for himself but could not break the password. All those things happened out of childish curiosity.

But after hearing his Grandma’s last lines that day, he was pretty sure that the CD must contain something special. He became desperate on it. On the very night, he tried to open the CD with grandma’s 6 digit password. But it did not open.

* * *

There was something grandpa was searching all the day. It was a diary in which he had written his part of password. His ageing brain was unable to remember or he could not rely on the ability of his ageing brain so he had written the password on his business diary. (The diary was of the year when he last worked in his business before handing over all the matters to his son.) And he could not remember where he left the diary. So, he called his best friend, his grandson Debojeet.

Deepanjan could not imagine that Debojeet could do any thing with the fragment of the password. So he did not hesitated in asking Debojeet to search his Diary.

In the diary, most entries were business appointments et cetera. But Debojeet found the fragment of the password there as his grandpa did nothing to hide. He quickly noted the six digits and handed the diary over to his grandpa.

* * *

That night with a little try, Debojeet opened the CD archive with the two fragments of the passwords. He previously thought that there may be Account details of the various bank accounts of his grandpa in the CD. But instead of any route to hidden treasure, he found a video file there.

With a bit of hesitation, he opened the file. In the first few second he could not get what actually was going on. But in some time he grasped every thing. He wanted to stop it. But he could not. He felt it is extremely immoral to see his grandpa and late grandma that way. Yet, he hardly could stop it. He watched it on and on and on until he dropped his load.

Right after that moment a strong feeling of guilt clinched him. He was proven to be immoral before himself. He could not guess how he could do that. It was not right. It was not right. He was deep upset.

After some minutes he gradually recovered. In this phase he became worried. Worried about how he could expiate.

He went to his grandpa and confessed everything.

As long as you live in this earth, time makes you more durable, experience and knowledge makes you more stable, age makes you more liberal. When Debojeet was going to his grandpa for confession, he thought that his grandpa will react heavily upon it and will probably not keep any relation with him. But this was not what happened. After knowing all the matters Deepanjan placed a soft hand of support on the shoulder of his grandson and said,

“Don’t worry; there is nothing wrong in it. Things will be ok. Very soon” He continued, “Curiosity on its own is not evil; grandson. It opens the path of knowledge. But what matters is how you use the knowledge.”

“But… But I … I couldn’t stop it. I watched it all through my very eyes, God damned eyes”

“No! No my son! Don’t curse yourself that way. Very few people in this earth have full control over his mind. After all we are all common people.”

That night, after so many years, Debojeet slept in his grandpa’s room.

* * *
Ring… Ring
Ring… Ring

“Hi! Deb. What’s up?” a girl receives Debojeet’s call recognizing his number in the CLI of her mobile.

“Hi, Meghna, I called you for something. Can go to River View Resort in Diamond-Harbour with me for three days?”

“Hey! That’s pretty naughty… Err… Ok, I’ll go” –said Meghna.


“At last we are at Diamond-Harbour. How do you feel Meghna?”

“Not bad!”

“Things will be better when we will be inside the hotel room.”
After a pause of one second or two, Deb again started,

“Well! Meghna, I hope you’ll understand. The moment that passes on does not come back. But we can surely try to sustain our good moments.”

“What do you mean?” – said Meghna, who somehow could guess what he meant.
“I mean to say that I want to catch our whole deeds in my handy cam and want to keep it for us when time will fade away our passion.”

“Good Heavens! You mean to say you want to make a porn movie out on us!” – Meghna said angrily.

Meghna continued, “Can you imagine, what will happen if the video goes public?”

“That will never happen” said Deb. “I will personally edit the movie in my computer. No third person will know anything about this. We will keep the video in a password protected archive with 12 digit password. First six digits will be yours and the last six digits of the password will be mine. The video can not be opened without both of us.”

This time Meghna looked pretty convinced. She agreed.

An (Un?)Contemporary thesis on Paach Dhila Syndrome (PDS)
---------------------------------------- By Zoydip --------------------------------------------------

Panch Dhila Syndrome or PDS is a very common issue among 'chaap khawa public' in the age group 12 to 80 (the upper limit may be slightly extended for people like ex. CM of West Bengal) who are very much tired by fighting with his/her own shadow. Although it is not clearly visible at the initial stage, but may take a greater form gradually.

The PDS is usually first detected by the people who hold the screw driver.

In fact, the level and impact of PDS highly depends on the screw driver used and the person holding the screw driver. So, proper care in behalf of the screw driver operator can greatly decrease the issues of PDS.

PDS is also known as 'khyapami' (e.g. 'Daasur Khyapami'), Paglami (e.g.'Paagla Jogai') etc.

People suffering from a matured level of PDS can be categorized as given below:

1. Boddho Paagol:
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It is a very advanced stage of PDS. The people suffering forget the feeling that they are actually suffering.

2. Hoddo Paagol
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It is the stage just before boddho paagol. The sufferer still has the feeling that something unusual is happening to them. But the people around them are convinced.

3. Hoyto Paagol
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It is a very early stage of PDS. The symptoms starts showing up but not get proved properly. A proper care at this stage on behalf of the people holding screw drivers can greatly decrease the risk.

4. Seyana Paagol
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This is not actually case of PDS. The person concerned clearly knows that he/she is not suffering from PDS and carefully manipulates his/her behavior to give an impression of 'Hoyto Paagol'. This category of PDS is often misinterpreted with 'Nyakami' (especially in the case of women).But these two are very different.


Furthur Study:
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Interested people may refer to the works of the famous plucker of PDS in Bengal called 'Manna Dey'. Especially his work called: 'Jodi keu aamake paagol bole...'

See Also:
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1. Paagla Daasu (by Sukumar Roy)

2. Chhaya Baaji (by Sukumar Roy)