A path under the Sun

The expectations are high,
with challenges ahead,
paths unseen.
Limit is time,
so do power,
Steps & Sun
and he is still far,
smiles mixed tears,
shedding the fears,
with a reposed face.
To find the truth,
a bit from,
the great creation,
to overturn stones,
to make milestones .
Accepted the task,
hopes intact,
nights spent on floor,
to hear the cuckoos
of very mornings –
before the alarm buzz,
to meet the horizons.
Running the terrains,
before the dusk,
let the Sun guide him.

Look & Feel Changed

One of my blog sister complained about look and feel of my blog. Her complaint was that, the fonts of my blog were too small to read easily. I too have felt the same earlier. So I have increased the size of post fonts to 14 pixels, may be more comfortable to read for majority.Though changing the template was the most easy way to do so, when default fonts are predefined in them. But this template has to be maintained as it suited my posts. Though changing font-color, style and size in this template require extra efforts of using CSS( Cascading Style Sheets) in spans,I shall be doing that. I shall increase the size of fonts of other last posts too after some time.

Fiction or Real !

The JNVians’ GT @ Kanpur finished off well on 19th Nov. Though except my little contribution of work for the GT, I was not present there physically. The organisers needed time to come-up with reports. For the time being there was no GT reports at forum. Then with ingredients of little but exactFiction and Real information, I had on hand from venue and after adding up my imagination, I cooked a piece of Kanpur GT description. Though, I never wrote that I was there, our alumni read it like original piece. But at one place dear Sumit spilled the beans ! On being questioned by Ajay, I had to give them clue that it was fiction. But the attendees of the GT complemented, its as a real fiction!

Earlier another funny fiction episode occurred, when I wrote on my so called second marriage anniversary ЁЯЩВ .

Though have not read many fictions, I have started dreaming to write someday real fiction too.

рд╕рд╛рджреЗ рдкрдиреНрдиреЗ

рдкрдбрд╝реА рд╣реВрдИ рдереА рдЪрд┐рдареНрдард┐рдпрд╛рдБ
рдЖрд▓рдорд╛рд░реА рдХреЗ рдХреЛрдиреЗ рдореЗрдВ,
рдлреЗрдВрдХрд╛ рднреА рдирд╣реАрдВ рдЙрдиреНрд╣реЗрдВ ред
рдХрднреА рджрд░рд╡рд╛рдЬреЗ рдЦреБрд▓рддреЗ,
рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рд╣рдБрд╕рддреЗ рдереЗ –
Blank Pages
рдЕрдХреНрд╖рд░ рдЙрдирдореЗрдВ ред
рдкрд░ рд╡рд╣ рди рд╣рдБрд╕ рдкрд╛рддрд╛,
рдЯрдкрдХрддреА рдЙрд╕рдХреА рджреЛ рдмреБрдБрджреЗрдВ,
рдЖрдБрд╕реБ рдХреА рддрдм,
рднреАрдВрдЧ рдЬрд╛рддреА рд╕реНрдпрд╛рд╣,
рдорд┐рдЯрдиреЗ рд▓рдЧрддреЗ рдЕрдХреНрд╖рд░ ред
рдорд╛рди рди рдкрд╛рддрд╛,
рдмрд╕ рдЦреЗрд▓ рдерд╛ рд╡реЛ ред
рдмрдВрдж рдХрд░ рдЖрд▓рдорд╛рд░реА,
рдмреИрда рдЧрдпрд╛ рдХреБрд░реНрд╕реА рдкрд░,
рджреЗрдЦрд╛ рддреЛ рд╡рд╣реАрдВ,
рдХрд▓рдо рдкрдбрд╝реА рдереА
рдЯреЗрдмреБрд▓ рдкрд░ рдФрд░,
рдХрд╛рдЧрдЬ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рджреЗ рдкрдиреНрдиреЗ,
рдкрд░ рдмрдврд╝рддреЗ рди рдереЗ,
рд╣рд╛рде рдЙрд╕рдХреЗ,
рд▓рд┐рдЦ рди рдкрд╛рддреЗ,
рдЕрдЧрд░ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдХреБрдЫ
рдЗрд╕ рдкрд▓,
рдЬреЛ рдмреАрдд рдЬрд╛рдПрдЧрд╛,
рд░рд╣ рдЬрд╛рдПрдБрдЧреЗ рд▓рд┐рдЦреЗ рдкрдиреНрдиреЗ ред
рдЬреЛ рдЙрд╕реЗ рдкреНрдпрд╛рд░реЗ рдереЗ, рдФрд░
рдмрди рдЬрд╛рдПрдЧрд╛ рдЗрддрд┐рд╣рд╛рд╕ ред
рдФрд░ рдлреЗрдВрдХ рди рд╕рдХреЗрдЧрд╛ ред
рдлрд┐рд░ рдирд╣реАрдВ рд▓рд┐рдЦрд╛ рдЙрд╕рдиреЗ-
рдкреБрдЪрдХрд╛рд░рд╛ рд╡рд╣рд╛рдБ рдкрдбрд╝реЗ рд╕рд╛рджреЗ рдкрдиреНрдиреЗ ,
рдЬреЛ рдХрдо рд╕реЗ рдХрдо,
рдЪреБрдк рддреЛ рд░рд╣рддреЗ ред

рдЕрдБрдЦрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рд░рд╛рддреЗрдВ

рдЖрдБрдЦреЗрдВ рддреЛ рдмрдВрдж рджрд┐рдЦрддреА рдЙрд╕рдХреА,
рдкрд░ рдЕрдВрджрд░ рдкреБрддрд▓рд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рд╕реЛрддреА рдирд╣реАрдВ,
Sleeping Eyes..
рджреЛрдиреЛрдВ рд╕рд╣реЗрд▓рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рд╕реА рдЯрд╣рд▓рддреА ред
рдирд┐рд╢рд╛-рдирд┐рдордВрддреНрд░рдг рд╡рд╣ рдХреИрд╕реЗ рджреЗрддреА,
рдкрд╣реЗрд▓рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЬреЛ рдЙрд▓рдЭрддреА рдЧрдпреАрдВ ред

рдЙрди рдХрд░рд╡рдЯреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рднрд╛рд╡рд╛рд░реНрде рдерд╛,
рд╡рд╣ рд╕реНрд╡рдкрди рдерд╛ рдпрд╛ рдпрдерд╛рд░реНрде рдерд╛ ,
рд╡рд╣рд╛рдБ рд╕реНрд╡рд╛рд░реНрде рдерд╛ рдпрд╛ рдкрд░рдорд╛рд░реНрде рдерд╛ ред
рдмреАрддреА рд░рд╛рдд рдХреА рджреБрд╕рд░реА рдкрд╣рд░ рднреА,
рдЖрдБрдЦреЗ рдлрд┐рд░
рдХрдм, рдпреВрдБ рд╣реА рд╕реЛ рдкрдбрд╝реА ред

Bihar тАУ the write thing ! (9) тАУ Being a Bihari

In my Navodaya days, I remember that during our vacations in home, after hearing the tone of my Bengali, Ma used to warn me – “Why your tone of speaking changed, be polite!” I used to wonder тАУ how she marks it! Afterwards Navodaya days, for our career scopes, like thousands of learned family there, she too insisted that proceed anywhere outside than Bihar.

Year 1994, Ma and I reached Chennai by train for my coaching admissions. On the way in train, I was carrying all my certificates too. I had felt that, she didn’t slept most part of the nights, knowing my 10th mark sheet was in the box. Though the train comes out of Bihar territories, but it was the result of our fear of losing baggage in train journeys of Bihar!

At T. Nagar, Chennai, Ma took me to a hostel for making my stay arrangement during the coaching period. We were waiting at the reception unless the manager was to come. By the time on being asked a guy there told that one bed is going to vacate next 5 days. I used to be smarter those teenage days. I could talk in English too! As the manager came, I took the lead and was asking for the seat, if any. He refused to have any. I argued,-тАЬNext week some seat no. was going to vacateтАЭ. He was surprised and now he refused more. Ma didn’t tell anything to him at that time.

After searching for few more hostels, Ma insisted to return back to same hostel. Now she spoke to him and requested for temporary arrangement if possible unless any seat is available. He immediately told okay and took my luggage into room no. 7. I was given a temporary seat.

Next day manager was telling to me -” See guy, I was not willing to give you seat here. But seeing your Ma and her behavior, I gave you seat. Otherwise Biharis I don’t give! I was shocked. “But your mother is Bengali”, he added. “Yes”, I nodded with surprise. In those days, I did not know that by costume one can be recognized of place of belonging. “How you knew that?”- I asked him. He added to prove his expertise- тАЬPeople from all over India come here. Did not she have white & red bangles (shakha & pola) in her hand and Bengali sari and sindoor”. At that time only I knew that its unique identity of Bengali married ladies. Later on I knew that Oriya and Assamese ladies are almost same.

For such long period, I was for the first time outside Bihar. I mingled with the people from all over India there. Those 6 months were my days of improvements.

But my Bihari – non Residential Bengali identity remained unsolved. For my whole stay in Chennai, I used to tell people, I am from West Bengal. Though in fact, I stay at the boundary town of Bihar- Bengal. The 2 km south and 2 km north of our town is the boundary line of West Bengal with our relatives.

Again it was the year of 2001-02. I was working in a computer lab in Bangalore for my project works. My Professor used to have and still have fatherly affection for me. Obviously he knew well that I am from a Bihar town and he also knew that I came from Bengal town institute, Siliguri (Darjeeling) for projects. But several times when seeing me in the lab, his colleagues used to ask him about me. He used to tell them straight- “He is Prem from West Bengal, Darjeeling”. Once in hurry even he told too that “He is from Assam”. I have to digest the reality behind his convincing answers.

Still at the workplace or somewhere else on being asked my name – people get confused. Next question comes тАУ тАЬFrom where do you belong?тАЭ Obvious the answer is “Bihar”. But sensing the situation, I have to enrich them “though I am Bengali”.

Coming back to our home, Ma, though for our school studies she preferred Hindi than Bengali and at home our mother-tongue remained Bengali only. I can guess today that she maintained an unseen boundary around us from the local culture. Since our childhood days she impregnated fine arts, music, classical dance and other cultural activities which are indispensable part of any cultured Bengali families. We were allowed to mingle with selected friends only. Though she has risen up the levels of caste, creed and regional variations, after getting good marriage proposals from native Bihar families for my sisters, those could not be materialized.

I have to hear and bear the facts underlying. There all the things need to improve a lot including socio-political culture with added sense of responsibility.

In the cosmopolitan life, I am escaping the situations and maintaining my Bengali culture. The fact remains that I am born and brought up on the land of Bihar. I would have been happier, had people embraced me as Bihari !
Last posts in the same series :

Health Services , Rubberi Devi, Tea Production, Common man and Media, Democracy , Common Life, Origin as a State.

Who are You ?

“Who Am I ?” was my first post on my blog journey dated November 23rd, 2004. Yesterday this blog completed two years.

The internet based technology is my bread and butter. Its my lone technical love ( addiction) too. It rewarded me honestly, and I too kept the blog associated with my principles of identity. Flowers

During the journey, I learnt many things from my fellow bloggers with best possible transparency. I got connected to a good circle around, some became indispensable. My posts sometimes got praised well, was tolerated many a times and few were criticized with dignity. I am proud of my global associations here, specially the network of Hindi bloggers and consistent readers.

Some other things I learnt were the typing in Hindi. But adding to sorrow, I saw disappearance of some blogs and final disappearance of a blogger too.

I learnt to come out of a shell. Since my words are expressed on public place instead of my personal diary, they are half worth unless those can reach the heart and brains of audience. The best thing I learnt here is rationality in thought. Though emotional outcomes could not be checked, its impossible almost.

FlowersOn this occasion of celebration, I do hope to add new category of humour as per my MaтАЩs guidance. She thinks (me too) that, now a days with a loads of work and due to lack of understanding of feelings people are already stressed. They need something to smile back. On this Sunday, I am going to buy ingredients for preparing the (0 тАУ 100%) guaranteed humour tonic. ЁЯЩВ

Obviously, the journey started with self centric posts, later moved towards people around me. Hence as a mark of respect to all around me, this special post is dedicated to my readers.

Thank you, very much, my inspirations. Something kept me intact for two years, I do wonder, who are you ?

рдРрд╕реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рд░рд┐рд╢реНрддреЗ

рд╡реЛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ, рднреБрд▓ рдЬрд╛рдУ рд╕рдм,
рд╡реЛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ, рдореЛрдбрд╝ рджреЛ рд░рд╛рд╣реЗрдВ,
рд╡реЛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ, рддреЛрдбрд╝ рджреЛ рд░рд┐рд╢реНрддрд╛,
рд░рд┐рд╢реНрддреЗ
рд╡реЛ рдХрд╣рддреЗ, рдХрд┐рд╕реНрд╕реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ ред

рдЬрд╛рдирдХрд░ рднреБрд▓ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╕рдм рдореИрдВ,
рд░рдВрдЧреАрди рджреБрдирд┐рдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ рдЦреЛ рдЧрдпрд╛,
рд╣рдБрд╕рддрд╛- рдЧрд╛рддрд╛, рдЖрд╡рд╛рд░рд╛ рд╕реЛ рдЧрдпрд╛,
рдкрд░ рд╡рд╣ рд░рд╛рдд рд╕рдкрдиреЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ рдЖ рдЧрдпрд╛ ред

рд╕реБрдмрд╣ рдореЛрдбрд╝ рджрд┐рдпрд╛, рд░рд╛рд╕реНрддрд╛ рдЕрдкрдирд╛,
рдЕрдирдЬрд╛рдиреА рд░рд╛рд╣реЛрдВ рдкрд░ рдирд┐рдХрд▓ рдкрдбрд╝рд╛,
рднреБрд▓ рдЧрдпрд╛ рд╕рд╛рд░реЗ рдЧрд▓рд┐рдпрд╛рдБ рд░рд╛рд╕реНрддреЗ ,

рд╡рд╣ рдЕрдирдЬрд╛рдиреЗ рдореЛрдбрд╝ рдкрд░ рджрд┐рдЦ рдЧрдпрд╛ ред

рдлрд┐рд░, рдЙрд╕реЗ рддреЛрдбрд╝ рджрд┐рдпрд╛, рдЯреБрдХрдбрд╝реЛрдВ рдореЗрдВ,
рдлрд┐рд░, рдмреЗрдЬрд╛рди рдЯреБрдХрдбрд╝реЛ рдХреЛ рдкреАрд╕ рджрд┐рдпрд╛,
рджреЗрдЦрд╛, рд╡реЛ рдзреВрд▓ рдмрдирдХрд░ рдмрд┐рдЦрд░ рдЧрдпрд╛,
рдореЗрд░реА рдорд╛рдЯреА рдореЗрдВ рдЕрдорд┐рдЯ рдмрд╕ рдЧрдпрд╛ ред

рдРрд╕реЗ рд╣реИрдВ рдХреБрдЫ рд░рд┐рд╢реНрддреЗ ред

Its a Page-3 lesson !

It was the set of movie Babul. This incident is a real one . Rani Mukherjee was learning bike driving lessons from Salman. He gave Rani the clutch and accelerator lessons well and she paid half attention to those.Rani Mukherjee

She started the bike. With her half learnt lessons, the bike accelerated full and jumped into the air few meters high ! To everyone on the set, this was an unbelievable real action. As the bike crashed on land, every one on the set was looking towards the British guy present there instead of the bruised Rani. The 10 years old bike was owned and well maintained by the British guy. His bike !! To surprise, British guy without any worry was laughing. On being asked he replied тАЬMr. Salman, why only 1 bike, I can sacrifice 10 such bikes to see such an actionтАЭ.

Maintaining a bike for 10 years was easier but not the calm composure and emphasizing the action happened there. I adore you, man!

рдЕрдирдЬрд╛рдиреА рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ

рдХрд╛рд╢ рдореИрдВ рд╕рдордЭ рдкрд╛рддрд╛,
рдЧреБрд▓рдореЛрд╣рд░ рдкрд░ рдмреИрдареЗ,
рдкрдВрдЫрд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЖрд╡рд╛рдЬ,
рдЙрдирдХреЗ рдЧреАрдд, рдЙрдирдХреА рд╡рд╛рдгреА ред

рдЙрдирдХреЗ рд╣реА рддрд░рд╣ рдорд╕реНрдд,
рдХрд╛рд╢ рд╡реИрд╕реЗ рд╣реА рджреМрдбрд╝ рдкрд╛рддрд╛,
рдкрддрд▓реА рд╕реА рдЯрд╣рдирд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдкрд░
рдЧрд┐рд▓рд╣рд░рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреЗ рд╕рд╛рде ред

рдХрд╛рд╢ рдореИрдВ рд╕рдордЭ рдкрд╛рддрд╛,The colors
рддрд┐рддрд▓рд┐рдпреЛрдВ рдХреА рдЯреЛрд▓реА рдХреЛ,
рдЦрд┐рд▓реЗ рдлреБрд▓реЛрдВ рд╕реЗ рдЙрдирдХреА рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ ,
рдлрд┐рд░ рдЪреБрдкрдХреЗ рд╕реЗ рд░рдВрдЧ рдЪреБрд░рд╛рдирд╛ ред

рдХрд╛рд╢ рдореИрдВ рд╕рдордЭ рдкрд╛рддрд╛,
рд╡реЗ рд╕рдм рдЕрдирдЬрд╛рдиреА рдмрд╛рддреЗрдВ,
рддреИрд░ рд░рд╣реА рдереА рдкреБрд░рд╡реИрдпрд╛ рдореЗрдВ,
рдмрд╕ рдЫреБ рдХрд░ рдирд┐рдХрд▓ рдЧрдпреА ред