Sunday, February 27th, 2023সোমবার, ১৪ই ফাল্গুন, ১৪২৯ বঙ্গাব্দ
This is an idiom people from West Bengal use a lot. Bengalis are a self-critical and pessimistic lot. Even a few days back, when I was in College St, Coffee House, the intellectual heart of Kolkata, I heard the same thing. Funny thing is that 25 years back, when I used to frequent its steps on a daily basis, I used to hear the same phrase. সে রামও নেই সেই অযোধ্যা ও নেই.
Today, as I write this column on this Friday evening, I a feeling a lot like that সে রামও নেই সেই অযোধ্যা ও নেই. Generally I am a positive guy and very unlike my fellow Bengalis back home or abroad. But I guess the saying here is, you can take Bengali away from Bengal, but you can’t take Bengal away from a Bengali. They typically say that for India, I took the liberty of changing a couple of words. The point is, whatever the reason is, this digital column is barely alive. This is just a reflection of the activity of the community, so you can imagine the health of the community from this column.
That said, personally I have been rather busy. The recent war in Ukraine which is now more than a year long, has changed the commodity markets for good. The direct impact for me is a substantial amount of business travel. That is great in the beginning after the lull of covid, but it gets old rather quickly. Thankfully in a couple of weeks there will be spring break, and I will be taking some time off.
I often wonder if I should try and push the activity level. Do I provide a certain incentive to get people more active like before. Then I wonder, why this time it will be different? So I won’t. This is the 97th column that I have written in this space. I think it would be a folly not to write three more after this one. Then the current editor might stop typing all together. I think that will be a good time to stop.
You may be related to someone by blood, fastened by the different light and dark shades of red, but that doesn’t really make them your family.
As I tread ahead in life, I slowly understand that the people who are blood related, the few people who I considered to be a part of my family, were never truly what they seemed to be. Good intentions, a bit of faith and understanding is all I ask for, but even all that is a bit too much to ask for these days.
Fortunately, there’s no shortage of trust and support in my own home. At least my parents and siblings are understanding enough. There’s also my wife, who’s always ready to surf the waves with me; whether it be the abrupt tsunami of ups and downs, or the calm and warm ripples by the shoreline.
It’s quite normal to not like someone, you may not like their appearance, or their approach towards life, so you choose not to support them, which is fine. But to have ill intentions, to pull someone down, to talk dirty behind their backs, and then to instantly put an innocent face on, when in front of them; people with such shape-shifting abilities really do exist. Or do they just have a big collection of masks?
When it comes to acting all nice and innocent, these people are quite a natural bunch. They’ll butter you up, while they quite effortlessly prep their wicked tactics and tricks in the back of their heads.
Some of them are clueless too, they also wonder why some of us distance ourselves, creating an invisible barrier between us and them. Thing is, the word always gets around, because we simply don’t know when and where we should be keeping our mouths shut. And some of us can just tell, because we’ve had our fair share of experiences with different types of people, it’s now somewhat easy to read people’s true intentions.
Thus, never blindly rely on blood. Instead, rely on the people who have been battle tested the same as you, the people who have and will fight alongside you, no matter what. Sweet words are always nice to hear, but the effort and intention is what really counts and holds true value.
দৈনন্দিন জীবনে হাতটানের অভ্যেস আমার না থাকলেও, বই-পুস্তক, সিনেমা, গান এসব যে তুঘলকি কায়দায় হাসিল করে ভোগ করে আসছি বহুবছর—একথা অস্বীকার করার পাটা আমার নেই। যদি কোন এক সুদূর ভবিষ্যতে বিশাল ধনবান হয়েও বসি, তবু কিছু কিছু তুঘলকি নিমিত্তে আমি নিঃসঙ্কোচে ডুবে থাকবো। এবং এর পেছনে কনভেনিয়েন্স হচ্ছে সবচে বড় আলাপ!
জি-লাইব্রেরীর অন্তর্ধানে বিপদে পড়েছিলাম বৈকি। এ জিনিসটার টেলিগ্রাম বট ছিলো, কোন বই চাইবা মাত্র টেলিগ্রামে পেয়ে যেতাম, চৌদ্দবাড়ি ঘুরে বেড়ানোর ধার ধারতে হতো না। কলিন হুভার নামক এক সস্তা লেখিকার ভক্তরা ঝামেলা পাকিয়ে জি-লাইব্রেরী খেয়ে দিলো। এরপর টর ভার্সন ছাড়া আর কোন উপায় ছিলো না। তো খুশির কথা হলো মেলাদিন পর জি-লাইব্রেরী ফিরে এয়েচে! নতুন সিস্টেম এখন। যার যার কাস্টম ডোমেন দিয়ে দিবে, ওটা আবার পই পই করে মানা করেছে শেয়ার করতে। ডিফেন্স এগেন্সট দ্য টিরানি! নতুন টেলিগ্রাম বটও বেশ উপাদেয়, নিজেই নাম সেট করা যায়। আনন্দের আতিশয্যে ওদের ডোনেট করলাম। এখন ওয়েবসাইট থেকে কোন বই সরাসরি কিন্ডল রিডারে পাঠাতে পারি মেইলে, লাগে মোটে এক ক্লিক! পূর্বপুরুষেরা এ আরাম পেলে নির্ঘাত বইটই আর লিখতো না।
এদিকে আমি ভিন্ন আরেক জিনিসের খোঁজ পেয়েছি। Anylang নামক এক ওয়েবসাইট, যাতে ইউরোপিয়ান বিভিন্ন ভাষায় বই পড়া যায়। তো এর জন্যে স্পেশাল কায়দা কেন বাপু—এই যদি হয় প্রশ্ন, তবে শুনে নিন—ওরা CEFR লেভেল মেপে বই সাজেস্ট করে। যেকোন শব্দ বা বাক্য সিলেক্ট করে দিলে অর্থ দেখাবে, উচ্চারণ শোনাবে। ভাষা শেখার মত অত্যাধিক ত্যাল যাদের আছে, তাঁদের জন্যে বেশ ভালো উপায়। তয় ওরা মাসে আড়াই ডলার চায়। দিলেম। কয়েকগুণ লাভ উসুল করে লব এই আমার পণ।
ওতে একটা ফরাসী শিশুউপন্যাস পড়ছি ফরাসী ভাষায়। এক বাচ্চা ছেলে চিড়িয়াখানায় নেকড়ের খাঁচার সামনে ঠায় দারিয়ে থাকে, আর এক চোখ কানা নেকড়েকে দেখে। অন্য বাচ্চাদের মত ভেংচি কাটে না, ঢিল ছোড়ে না। নেকড়ে এতে উল্টো অস্বস্তি বোধ করা আরম্ভ করলো। বাচ্চার সমস্যা কী? ওদিন তো বটেই, পরদিনও সারাদিন বাচ্চাটা নেকড়ের খাঁচার সামনে দাঁড়িয়ে দৃষ্টিবাণে ধরাশায়ী করতে লাগলো। এরপর আর তারপর দিনও। অতঃপর নেকড়ে ভাবলো, আচ্ছা শালার পো শালা, আমিও পারি। চোখাচোখি হলো। প্রবল স্টেয়ারিং কনটেস্ট। কিন্তু নেকড়ের তো এক চোখ? কী করে পারবে? এই ভাবতে ভাবতেই বাচ্চা ছেলেটা নিজের এক চোখ ঢাকলো হাত দিয়ে!
গল্প চলছে। ভালো লাগছে। ঢিমে তালে পড়ছি। সম্পুর্ণ নতুন চোখে ভাষাকে দেখছি।
ইদানিং ফিজিকাল বই-টই কিনছি। লাইব্রেরী আসতে আসতে গড়ে তুলবো। সেদিন নীলক্ষেত থেকে ৯৪’র মুদ্রণের কটা নিলাম। মেলভিলের মোবি ডিক, কনরাডের লর্ড জিম। সস্তায় দিয়ে দিলো। ওরা ভেবেছে আমি বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ে লিটারেচারের ছাত্র, পরীক্ষা দিয়ে টিয়ে বই বেঁচে দেবো! যদি জানত আমি তিনগুণ দিতে রাজী ছিলাম, হা হা!
Hernandez to Norman Nordstrom in Don’t Breathe 2
Never have I ever been moved by a silly movie so profoundly. It’s not the plot actually but this particular dialogue between two characters at some point in the movie has something powerful enough to move a mountain only if you are eager to embrace it wholeheartedly.
Reflecting on the deeds, questionable deeds to be honest, is more like offering a bowl of hot soup to the soul— it takes time to cool down and taste the first sip but when it’s cold enough, you get to enjoy every drop of it.
We all have some dark sides, that we don’t (read can’t) share with others. Not because they reveal the hideous self of us but because we don’t want to remember them as they are too ugly to be recalled even by ourselves.
It’s okay.
I believe not wanting to share such secrets is absolutely fine.
But we; the inner self can’t hide from those unfortunate events that are imprisoned at the remotest part of our soul for years, even decades. They are there for some noble causes. The creator has purposefully kept them alive in our mind for some good reasons. He wants us to recall them at our leisure so we can guide ourselves to the right path.
That’s it, my friend.
Reflect on what wrong you have done today, the day before, or even at some point in your life. Recall those ugly moments buried deep inside you, and ask yourself why and when you tuned out of your sense of righteousness. Have you corrected yourself yet— ask yourself, feed the soul with the right bowl of soup it deserves.
Keep digging my friend, someday you will find reasons to give your life the fresh start you are planning for many nights.
My body is a house,
that has shuttered through many storms, but the foundation still gleams standing in her lived paint, the kind of house that lies at the end of the street where the forgotten toys lie in the waiting grass, searching for the sun that shines through the creaking floorboards, where wildflowers grow through
My body is a house,
the kind that listens under a full beaming moon, in her walls that echo many seasons lived, and still yet to come, the faint hint of childhood chalk and all of the days we lived in the sun, if you listen hard enough, she tells stories, just by standing
My body is a house,
follow the butterflies up the walls, the scars where Rome threatened to fall but try to stop the sun from shining, even through the most broken of glass forgiveness grew from the soil, wrapping from the once grieving porch where brisk lemonade was salt in the wound, and only made her mouth sore until forgiveness grew, where she had never known it before
My body is a house,
the kind with wings, if you dance through the hallways, you'll understand the war she fought to sing, you'll understand why the shadows now compliment the light, how she took a house of ruins and was reborn from the inside.
Words have, yet again, ceased from my fingertips.
It’s not an uncommon sight for me, as I go through this up-and-down level of writing activity at least three times every month, but I’ll be lying if I said that by this point I’m used to it, because I certainly am not.
I’ve reached that moment in life where the tide has finally started to pull, and with it, the shifts of change have also started their call. It’s definitely not the time for me to sit and enjoy the view in front of me, not with the work I have laid out in front of me that I need to be doing to keep the house I wanted to build on the shore of my mind, and my future. Yes, it is undoubtedly an unnecessary symbolistic phrase I used right there, but that’s the peak of how artistic I can get at this point, so I’ll take it.
Long story short, things are kicking into gear for me this year, and I’ve yet to catch up with it all. Too many things have piled up on my to-do list, and I’m scrambling back and forth to get it all in order. I thought of getting a part-time job for myself for a couple of months now, and with opportunities of that coming into light, I know I need to run if I want to catch it.
Now, the problem is that with all the hecticity of everything; from family to university, ( My last frikkin’ semester to be exact) I am finding myself slipping from the things I rather enjoy doing. From writing to even picking up my guitar, things are not looking up in the hobbies department for me. Yet, I still try my best to move with it, whenever I can. For some weird reason, I’ve found that I am rather into video editing of all things, and so now I try and fiddle with that in my pastimes. I even got into some courses to follow, with not a single care or idea of what I might do with the skill once I master it.
I sometimes hate this stupid learning tendency of mine, that literally runs towards anything they find shiny and new to look it up from every angle, then discard it once all the knowledge has been sucked dry from it. I learn, yet I do not apply; it’s a cycle that has been going on with me for ages. To do better, I know this needs to be changed, even if slightly. I’m in no condition to fulfil all my whims without a care for the future. Yet, I still end up doing it all the time.
So, yeah. I’m moping at the moment. I started this piece thinking I’d write about how human minds sometimes take away the simplest pleasures without a warning, and how it might be just a reflection of our outer state that compels it to do so. Yet, I ended up word-vomiting my agony…
