ভোর

এখানে আসার পর থেকে ভোর হতে খুব কম-ই দেখেছি। ঘুমোতে যাওয়ার সময় ক্রমঃশঃ গভীর থেকে গভীরতর রাতের দিকে সরতে থাকে আর সেই সঙ্গে পিছোতে থাকে ঘুম ভাঙার সময়। এইভাবে পিছোতে পিছোতে যখন ঘুমোতে যাওয়ার সময় ৬:৩০ পার করল, আমি এখানে ভোর হওয়া দেখলাম।

নেশাতুর রাত আড়ামোড়া ভেঙে জেগে উঠল। প্রত্যেক জায়গার ভোরের নিজস্ব একটা গন্ধ থাকে, সেই গন্ধ নাকে এল। মনে পড়ে গেল, দেশগাঁয়ে যখন বেড়াতে যেতুম, তখন ঘুম ভাঙার পর কতকটা এমনই গন্ধ নাকে আসত। মশারি ফাঁক করে, পা-টা নামিয়ে হাওয়াই চটি খুঁজতাম আর ক্রমশঃ স্পষ্ট হয়ে জেগে ওঠা লোকজনদের কলতান।

আমাদের হস্টেল-এর ছাদে এসে দাঁড়ালে এমনিতেই মনটা ভালো হয়ে যায়। একদিকে সারি সারি ধোঁয়া ঘেরা পাহাড়; অন্যদিকে বিশাল একটা লেক। লেকের অন্যপাড়ে সদাজাগ্রত শহরের রাস্তায় গাড়ীগুলো বিন্দুর মত সরে সরে যায়। তার-ও পেছনে দেখা যায় বিমানের ওঠানামা। সামনের দিকে আছে লেক এর চড়া আর তার-ও পেছনে জনপদ। ঝাঁ-চকচকে শহরের সাথে তার পার্থক্য চোখে পড়ার মত। সেই পার্থক্য কেন জানি না, বারবার আমার পাড়াগাঁ-এর কথা মনে পড়িয়ে দেয়।

পাখির আনাগোনা শুরু হয় আস্তে আস্তে। হস্টেলের ঘুলঘুলি থেকে পায়রাগুলো বেরিয়ে পড়ে। কোকিল আর কাক ডাকতে শুরু করে এক-ই সাথে। মাটিতে শালিখ চরে বেড়ায়। টিভির তারে বসে ফিঙে লেজ দোলায়। দোয়েলরা গল্প করে। দূরে লেকের চরে বসে থাকা বকগুলিকে মনে হয় ছড়িয়ে থাকা সাদা পালক। লেকের উলটোদিকে আছে একটি পাঁচতারা হোটেল।তার সবকটা ঘরেই নীল পর্দা। সেগুলি একইরকম থাকে। কতকগুলি গরু চরতে আসে লেকের চরে। বকগুলি ঘিরে ধরে তাদের। কুকুরগুলো খামোখা মস্করা করে গরুগুলিকে তাড়িয়ে বেড়ায়।সামনে আমার প্রিয় জনপদে শুরু হয় মানুষের আনাগোনা।

ক্রমশঃ রোদ বাড়ে, আমি ফিরে এসে ঘুমোতে যাই।

Retrograde and Anterograde Amnesia

Retrograde and Anterograde Amnesia happened to me at the same time when I (supposedly) fell down from my bicycle last Sunday. The names sound really fearsome but for me the period involved is really small (5-6 seconds of Retrograde and ~30 minutes of Anterograde).

In retrograde amnesia, the subject (that's me) is unable to recall events that occurred before the development of amnesia. The reason in my case was a mild head injury and shock. And I forgot the event of falling down altogether. According to Ribot's Law, there is a time-gradient in retrograde amnesia. Recent memories are more likely to be lost than the more remote memories. So, I lost the last 5-6 seconds before the head injure completely although I was able to remember the events before that gradually within a short time. For the first few hours it seemed that the time (2-3 hours) was a dream. But as people informed me the events that happened in that period, I gradually recollected some of the events (except for the 5 seconds period).

In anterograde amnesia, the subject loses the ability to create memory. There are two types of memory in human brain. One is short-term memory which is used for immediate processing and one is long-term memory which is used as a permanent storage for later retrieval. In anterograde amnesia, the process of writing from short term memory to long term memory is affected. I don't remember what happened during the 30 minute period after the injury. People said, I handed over my bi-cycle to Omair, came back to my room walking, asked my friend for Dettol, called my girlfriend once, took the bicycle keys back from Omair etc. But I don't remember these things at all. In most cases (including mine) subjects loss declarative memory (recollection of facts) and not procedural memory (how to do things).

References

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Retrograde_amnesia
2. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ribot%27s_Law
3. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anterograde_amnesia
   

Sealdah Episode

Sealdah
Do you still remember that guy standing in the entrance of Sealdah-north and weeping? Yeah, he was one of the boys who among the rare breed of men who cry. To make the matter worse he cried before his girlfriend. He was not weak (nobody admits himself weak). The thing was that his girlfriend was only person before whom who could cry, speak his heart out, and talk freely. He rarely shared anything with people. His girlfriend was the only person before whom he could be free.

He was tense. He was going to give one of the most important exams of his life in two days. It’s the exam for which he abandoned everything else. It’s the exam for which he sacrificed everything. He doomed in the other areas any way… or the IT scenario during recession was like that, everybody was dooming. Doing something in that exam was his only chance. Every other hope was already gone.

He didn’t know then that the exam would change his life so much and will take him thousands of kilometers away from where he used to be, from where he used to meet her, from the very Sealdah station where they said good bye to each other. It was most of the times the boy first said that they should leave. The boy was like this only. Always confused and prioritizing stuffs and never putting importance on what he actually wanted to do. The girl became sad and then became used to it.

That day the boy was not leaving. He was weeping and weeping. He was venting his heart out… he could not take the pressure any more. He needed to do something decisive in those three hours of exam. The girl was consoling and trying to make him understand like a mother talks with her child. Slowly the boy got back power. The exam was not that bad. He was prepared enough to face it. He prepared the best way he could and that was the best he could do. The girl could not give him a hug as they were standing in one of the busiest station in the world. But her eyes told everything. It talked about how deeply she loved the boy and how surely she believed in the love of the boy for her.

I have Just Completed Alchemist

What an awesome book it was. Wait... I am seeing an omen... it instructs me to dig just beside KReSIT!

OMG!!! People have got omens much earlier than me. They have already started digging. I should have read the book earlier.

Bhalobasa kare koy

কতবার ভেবেছিনু

Gloomy Evening Sets In

From your window you can see how an evening slowly sets. You again start thinking what could be better or in what way you should have been behaved, how you should have taken decisions...

You should have done this, done that...

John Denver -- Leaving On a Jet Plane

All my bags are packed I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside your door
I hate to wake you up to say goodbye
But the dawn is breakin' it's early morn
The taxi's waitin' he's blowin' his horn
Already I'm so lonesome I could die

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

There's so many times I've let you down
So many times I've played around
I tell you now, they don't mean a thing
Every place I go, I'll think of you
Every song I sing, I'll sing for you
When I come back, I'll bring your wedding ring

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Guitar Solo

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time let me kiss you
Close your eyes I'll be on my way
Dream about the days to come
When I won't have to leave alone
About the times, I won't have to say

So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh baby, I hate to go

Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane
Don't know when I'll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

Knowledge-based Information Retrieval with Wikipedia. -- David Milne

শ্রীজাতের লেখা

মুখে যত মিষ্টি বলে, মনে তত খিস্তি করে লোক
আমার যা গেছে গেছে, বাকিদের আরও ক্ষতি হোক।
হাত মেলাতে এসে তারা অভিশাপ খেলে যায় টাচ-এ
রোগ তো, ছোঁয়াচে।
আমার আর কী ক্ষতি হবে, ঘরে নাই হিরে-জহরত
কানে তুলো, চোখে ঠুলি, হাতে-পায়ে বেড়ি, নাকে খত
সবই তো কমপ্লিট হল। ক্ষতি বলতে লাভে হারব গেম
একটা প্রেম ছেড়ে দিয়ে জংশনে দাঁড়িয়ে আছি। লেট করছে পরবর্তী প্রেম।
দুঃসময় বন্ধু ছিল, তাই আমার ভাল না সময়
উপায় থাকে না কোনও। ভালবাসলে ভালবাসতে হয়।

- শ্রীজাত

Yet Another Fiction - issue 2

- 2 -

Shreyasee and Rahul were two students of same college. Even they shared the same department. But they didn’t quite know each other as they had different friend circles and Rahul, being an introvert, didn’t often talk with people other than his close friends. But some complex circumstances brought them together as Rahul changed his friend-group and joined the group in which Shreya belonged. Quickly than expected they became very good friends.

On the very day when Shreya was crying in the corner of the college roof and Rahul was consoling her, Rahul also shared some of his deepest secrets that nobody knew about. The secret that Rahul always feared of getting leaked, the secret which tells why Rahul changed the friend-circle, the one and only secret of Rahul’s life, he shared with Shreya. This way by sharing secrets and crying their heart out, they became really good friends, possibly the best friends of each other. They chatted until evening that day. And when they came out from the college, street lamps at the roads were lit.

From now they could be seen in different places in different times sitting together and chatting with each other. As expected, rumours started spreading. Rahul never thought he could be the topic of discussion anywhere. He never imagined that anybody could actually talk about him in his absence. He had a habit of underestimating himself. So, he was quite enjoying the new situation.

“Do you know, people are talking about us?” – said Shreya as they just got out of the college in one afternoon.

“Are they?” said Rahul as if he didn’t know anything.

“Yes, they are.” Shreya continued, “Do you think we should break their misunderstanding?”

Is this an indication that at last love is coming to Rahul formally? Whatever Shreya said just now seemed like an acceptance guarantee to Rahul. Otherwise Shreya wouldn’t have asked Rahul, she would have told her to just break the misunderstanding. Now, this is a grab-it-or-lose-it situation for Rahul. Rahul must react now... else, he’d lose again. What Rahul needed to do now was just propose her. But being an introvert, this was never easy for him. Rahul got nervous and quickly took an auto and left.

Another Fiction

- 1 -

Sadness, when not shared, often becomes like a rock. Sadness, when shared, the rock slowly melts in the form of teardrops. And when such a teardrop fell on the bench making her cheek wet, it’s the beginning of our story.

“Should I wipe the teardrop off from the table?” Rahul said to himself. Will give any kind of message? Rahul was hesitating as he always does. He was hesitating over whether he should give any kind of message or not.

She continued talking. After a while, at last, Rahul wiped the teardrop from the bench. He actually wanted to wipe her cheek, but he thought at this stage, it would be too outrageous.

“Let’s go outside... in the roof. There is no use of talking these matters in the classroom” said Rahul. Crying in the classroom with all other friends looking at you can never be a good idea. And being alone with the girl you like while she shares saddest part of her life made Rahul little bit proud of himself. First time in life, somebody have thought Rahul important enough to tell him all these. People generally do not think Rahul significant enough to talk or share. This incident was really boosting Rahul’s ego.

There was a corner in the college rooftop beside the water tank. If one sits there, no one can spot him (except for some unlikely people roaming in the bushes in the ground far below.) The corner used to give necessary privacy to the lovebirds of the college. Rahul’s heartbeat was pumping as he sat in such a corner with the girl she likes and the girl sharing deepest secrets of her life. Rahul thought that maybe he is not that much insignificant he thinks himself to be. This boosted Rahul much and finally he gathered all the courage to wipe the teardrop off Shreyasee’s cheek.

Rahman - 5th issue

As I am back at Kolkata, So as Rahman (as promised). This issue was written quite a few days ago. In fact, before I went outside Kolkata.
First Issue: Click Here (This issue combines all prior issues)
Second Issue: Click Here
Third Issue: Click Here
Fourth Issue: Click Here

---

Rahman and Ziah was walking together through a narrow walking path in a not-too-dense forest. Then Ziah asked Rahman, “Tell me your story? How come you get here?... Ok, wait a second. I’m too tired to walk anymore. Let’s sit under this banyan tree and talk”

Rahman told his full story to Ziah. How his father died at his age of six, what hardships his mother faced while bringing him up and how she too succumbed to the hardships of the world and died when he was fifteen. How Sadhan uncle ill-treated him in every possible occasion, and finally he started walking the path. How he met the dying old woman and how he got the coin and how he met the first stop people who told him that he was in a sacred journey.

“So you actually didn’t have any choice. In whatever position you are now, you weren’t any better off at Sadhan’s.”, said Ziah.

Now that’s it. Rahman knew that what Ziah was saying was correct. But getting a certificate on how bad you are from an other person doesn’t always feel good. Yet Rahman kept his mum. It is because of this soft-spoken nature of his character every other person gets successful in pushing him.

Ziah continued, “My case is totally different although. I never had any problem regarding money. My dad runs a big grocery store in the main market where I live. I used to get more money than I actually needed.”

“Then why did you left your home?” asked an astonished Rahman.

“Why wouldn’t I? should I stay at home just to have the crap study and give the crap exam? Life was so boring. So I left home. Failing in the exam worked as a catalyst although.”, Ziah said with curving her lips in a peculiar way.

“So you left home just because you failed in an exam?”

“Oh… not for that damn exam yaar… I told you, it only worked as a catalyst. I left home because there was no charm in my life. Life was so clumsy, so unexciting. Tell me one thing. What’s point in living that way? If you live that way, do things you do not like and do the same things day after day, year after year, you are not actually living. You are just waiting for death.”

“I think you should get back to your parents.”, said Rahman.

“No way. If I get back now they will surely lock me up in a room and make my life more miserable. Plus they will make me married as soon as possible. Dad had already started the talks with the son of the owner of the main market, who is a criminal by profession.”

Ziah paused for a second or two. Then continued, “Don’t worry! I will surely get back to my parents. There is no doubt in that. But first let me find out the charms of life. Let me continue my journey as a sacred walker. We are among the chosen few, remember?”

“Chosen few? You mean there are more that just me and you?”

“Of courses there are. But I am not very sure how many of them are still alive. The path is really dangerous.

“That is why I will again tell you to go back to your parents.”

Ziah got furious at this. She shouted, “I have already decided what to do. I have made it very clear that I am not gonna get back until I finish the sacred path. And by the way, you are no one to advise me. And if you keep nagging me any further I will forget about the alliance and go on my own.”

Rahman did not push her any more on this. Not because he cared for the alliance but because he knew how stubborn the girl is and he didn’t want to let her face the path alone. I must be there with her all the way, Rahman thought.

“what happened after you left home?” asked Rahman.

“that is in itself a history. I will tell you some other day. Everything was fine till my pocket money lasted. but as the money was nearing it’s end, I gradually becoming hard to cope up you know. But you see, you have to face hardship in achieving anything great”, Ziah said as if she had a lot of experience regarding life.

Ziah continued, “One day as I was sitting in a park, I noticed that a coin fell in the grass from the bowl of a blind beggar. I picked them up but as I was going to give that back to the beggar, he was gone. I searched the whole park but he was nowhere. There was something unusual about the coin as you must know. It was the fucking direction coin for God’s sake.

“How did you lost your coin?” asked Rahman. It is because of this Ziah and Rahman was together. Ziah lost her direction coin somehow in the path. On the other hand Rahman lacked information. This made them natural partners in the journey.

“It fell in the river. It was in my hand while I was crossing the river through the bamboo pool. It just fell from my hand and sank in the river.”

“You should not be that much careless” said Rahman.

“See, whatever gone is gone. There is no point in mourning over and over on the same point. Look, I can not carry on without the coin. You too can not carry on because you are a know-nothing-looser and you are by character so dumb. So it makes sense if we carry on together. And for that do not piss me off in such a way that I have to carry on alone.”

Somebody please teach this girl how to talk properly! Thought Rahman.

In a cludy afternoon like this

As I mentioned earlier, there are times when a lot of lines just floats in my mind. But I can not write as I am still searching for the first line to write. So I decided to get started and keep typing. And typing whatever comes to my mind.

It is again raining in Mumbai. And according to some report there was some sort of storm in Mumbai. Within this IIT campus, we hardly have any link to the outside world. And watching TV or reading newspaper is far of reach. What I know is as it is still raining I will still feel lazy to put my clothes in the machine (reasoning that even if I wash, they won't get dry. I am always very good at finding logic behind my laziness.) and I will have to wear the same clothes even tomorrow.

Whatever, when the sky is cloudy like this and the sun cease in giving me clocking information, all my branches and bounds seem at loose. I lay flat in the bed and stare upwards at the ceiling. Although I have to assume the underside of the upper bed as the ceiling. (We sleep in tow storied beds)

Lots of things come and go in my head then. Like what I would be doing if I was at home now. How I would stare at the gooses playing in the pond just behind my home. How I will go to the roof and stare at the topmost twig of the deodar tree and see the little green birds with a stick in the tails circling the tree. Somewhere a cuckoo will sing. I will search the whole tree to find that. This way the clocks will flow, and I wont understand how it became 5 from 3 pm. The sun had ceased clocking me.

Coming down, I would turn on the TV and shuffle through the channels randomly while there is add within Ma's daily soap. Then Ma will shout, "এবার আরম্ভ হয়ে গেছে, ঘোরা"

I'll hand over the remote and come to my room. It is still very dark there, Nobody (me) bothered to turn on the lights. The mosquito net is still hung from the hook and books are scattered randomly in the bed. The PC would be as usual running with no task given to him. I'll say to myself, "ধুস্‌, আজকেও বন্ধ করতে ভুলে গেলাম!". Then I will shut the PC down, clear books from the bed like one clears dust from the table, and dump the books in the table itself. Or in worst case if the table too is full with CDs and copies, I will dump the books in your parent's room with Ma shouting again, "নিয়ে এসেছিস্‌ আবার নিয়ে যাবি। আমি বয়ে নিয়ে যেতে পারব না".

I do not even hear the shouts. I stay awake lying in the in the bed and turn on the computer again (for nothing of course...), log in to gmail and see if anyone is online. Many people are infact, ... online, but I do not feel like talking to them. (I do not always feel like talking). I set myself invisible and start reading my own earlier chats... after a while I go to guruchandali.com and read the (non)sensible gibberish there for a while. I still feel bored. Then I call Abhijit..

"কোথায়?"
----------
"বেরোবি?"
----------
"তা'লে চলে আয়"
----------

And I take your bicycle and go out with Avijit. With no particular reason or cause. Just we keep cycling in the roads and may be have some chats at either KB ghat, or Lelinnagar melar math. Of course we do not chat with each other.

As soon as I come out of my home, it strikes me that I have to call her. I call her and say Hello!
"তুই সাইকেল চালাচ্ছিস?"
"হুঁ"
"তোকে না কতবার বলেছি সাইকেল চালাতে চালাতে কথা বলবি না"
"আরে বাবা কিছু হবে না, আমি পারি।"
"না তুই থাম, আদারওয়াইজ আমি ফোন রাখছি।"
...

Evening falls in my city. Still some light is coming from behind the huge pile of cumulonimbus. And it looks like mountains in the far. After a while Ankur joins both of us. And it starts raining heavily.

We have ran out of shelter. When we are on the verge of being completely drenched in rain, Ankur finds an auto. We all go inside. Some one somewhere shouts back... Who the hell is taking my auto out? We try to explain. But that I idea fails. We take our bicycle and fell. Just then the rain stops.

Time was in abundance then.

নিরন্তর ভাট (আবার)

তখন আমি হাঁটতুম| হেঁটেই পেরিয়ে যেতুম গরিয়াহাটের এমাথা থেকে ওমাথা. আনমনা বিকেলে পেরিয়ে যেতুম খান্না থেকে হাতিবাগান্ হয়ে মিত্রা| কিংবা বেলগাছিয়া থেকে অটো ধরে লেকটাউন, সেখান থেকে হাঁটতে হাঁটতে বাগুইআটি| শেয়ালদা থেকে এম্-জি রোড হয়ে কলেজ ষ্ট্রীট, সেখান থেকে সূর্য সেন স্ট্রীট বেয়ে আবার শেয়লদা|


আজকাল আমি মোটের ওপর ঘরের মধ্যেই থাকি| কোথায় আছি তাই জানিনা!

Why is copying bad?

Before discussing the question we must set a definition on what is copying. Here is what wikipedia says about copying:

Copying is the duplication of information or an artifact based only on an instance of that information or artifact, and not using the process that originally generated it. With analog forms of information, copying is only possible to a limited degree of accuracy, which depends on the quality of the equipment used and the skill of the operator. With digital forms of
information, perfect copying is not only possible, but is, almost by definition, the norm. Copy and paste is frequently used for information a computer user selects and copies to an area he or she wishes.

Here it means that the person who copies does not need to go through the process through which the the item was genarated but yet enjoys the same result. On an ideal world this is no problem. As the creator would not bother for earthly gain out of his creation. And of course would care a damn if somebody else gets unjustified gain out of his hard work. He will rather be busy creating new things. But in this world creator often wants gain out of his creation. And from materialistic point of view, this may be justified too. So the question whether we should let people copy or not boils down to how much ideal we think the world is.

:)

- Joydip Datta (09305014)

Rahman - Why there is no more issues

If you were following Rahman and now wondering why there is no post since a looooooooooooong time, here goes my apology.

There is two more issues written in my computer at home. But when I shifted from Kolkata to Mumbai, I forgot to take those issues with me. Without that part it is difficult to continue...

I promise, as soon as I get back to Kolkata, I will again post Rahman.

Ha ha ha.... I am talking as if there are people who were following Rahman anyway..

Google Translation

Our national anthem as translated from Hindi to Chinese at http://baike.baidu.com/view/668992.htm. This document is then retransleted from Chinese to Hindi again and see the result... There is so much scope of.. improvement:

[ 编辑本段 ] [संपादित करें इस पैरा]

原文 मूल

जन गण मन अधिनायक जय हे जन गण मन अधिनायक जय हे
भारत भाग्य विधाता भारत भाग्य विधाता
पंजाब सिंधु गुजरात मराठा पंजाब सिंधु गुजरात मराठा
द्राविड उत्कल वंग द्राविड उत्कल वंग
विंध्य हिमाचल यमुना गंगा विंध्य हिमाचल यमुना गंगा
उच्छल जलधि तरंग उच्छल जलधि तरंग
तव शुभ नामे जागे तव शुभ नामे जागे
तव शुभ आशिष मागे तव शुभ आशिष मागे
गाहे तव जय गाथा गाहे तव जय गाथा
जन गण मंगल दायक जय हे जन गण मंगल दायक जय हे
भारत भाग्य विधाता भारत भाग्य विधाता
जय हे जय हे जय हे जय हे जय हे जय हे
जय जय जय जय हे जय जय जय जय हे

译文 अनुवाद

印度人的心和命运都由你管辖， दिल से भारतीय और अपने अधिकार क्षेत्र का भाग्य,
你的名字使全国奋发， आपका नाम देश काम कठिन बना देता है,
旁遮普、辛德、吉甲拉特、马拉塔、 पंजाब, सिंध, किर्गिस्तान एक LVL, मराठी,
达罗毗荼、奥利萨、孟加拉； द्रविड, उड़ीसा, बांग्लादेश;
　文底那、喜马拉雅发出回响， उस के अंत में पाठ, हिमालय प्रतिक्रिया दी,
朱木拿、恒河奏乐回答， जमना, गंगा खेल संगीत जवाब
印度洋的波浪唱着歌， हिंद महासागर गाने गा लहरों में,
向你颂赞向你祝福， आशीर्वाद आप की जय हो, आप को,,
一切人都等你拯拔。 सभी लोगों के लिए प्रतीक्षा कर तुम Zheng खींच रहे हैं.
印度人的心和命运都由你管辖， दिल से भारतीय और अपने अधिकार क्षेत्र का भाग्य,
你永远无敌于天下。 तुम अजेय नहीं हो सकता.

Never Passed a Bijoya Like This

Bijoya Dashami is an well known day when our minds stay full with pain. Ma is going back. And we need to get back to our ordinary schedule again from tomorrow. We got to reengage ourselves to the same tension and jostling from where we managed to escape ourselves for the three days.

Where I live, hardly any trace of puja can be found. And wasting 3 days is somewhat out of conception. We managed escape away only on Ashtami... but from the very next day people were eagerly sat in their chairs with their eyes fixed on their monitors.

Time during puja is very painful when you are away from your root. You get the news that all your childhood friends with whom you used to make fun and ramble about just a few months back, have re-gathered and visiting the pujas in your city. All of them are together again and having a lot of fun... and you, alone, so many kilometers away, thinking that how the road beside your home might look like when the freshly bathed girls pass through it with wearing new sarees with water dripping from their hairs... and the para boys stare at them sitting on their bicycles with the neck almost 180 degrees bent. How the electric decoration bulbs change the color of the walls during night, what was the theme of the biggest puja in your locality this year....

You think about these all the day and the more you think, the more you feel sad. And the more you waste time.

c ya

Lazy morning

In Wednesday, classes start from late in the afternoon. In the morning around 9:30 not many people are awake. It seems that the night have extended itself. The shadowy corridors of the hostel seem gloomy. Wet shirts hung in the window forces us to keep the light on.

Staying awake is a tough job. Specially during the day.