The Pride of being human

          It was a calm and refreshing evening in Jorhat town. I was enjoying a cup of tea sitting at a tea stall and inspecting the activities going around. There was a small grocery store across the road. The owner was an old-timer pale looking lady. She was chewing paan and spitting here and there. A rough looking middle aged man was trying to peel a pine-apple with a small blunt knife sitting on the porch of the tea stall. A cow  was filling its belly with the last batch of green and fresh smelling grasses for the day in the grazing field beside the grocery. I was looking ideally at the vapors developing from my cup and slowly getting vanished in the air. Everything seemed to be so usual. I ceased my eyes from the cup and tried to widen my view as far as possible. Then I noticed a tiny bird with a broken leg lying helpless beside the road. It was spreading its wings and hoping with one leg, trying desperately to fly away. Its eyes were fixed on the pale-reddish sky. I started pondering whether this little creature would see the next sunrise. I soon got the answer.  A bunch of crooks appeared all of a sudden on the scene and started pelting the bird with stones. Before I could respond to the situation, that poor little creature breathed its last. A wild cheer from those lunatics went across my ears and left me stunned.
           I always felt proud of being human-the best creature ever in the world. But a strange awkwardness surrounded me as I thought about it at that moment. I left that place with a heavy heart and a mind full of questions.

Shillong days- 1

This image was taken on 27th of July, 2006 while Yannick, Nandaraj, Uttam and me were rehearsing for the last night function of the Stephenian Olympics, 2006, our hostel get-together. We were in B.Sc. 2nd year. All four of us were very much excited and enthusiastic about our show. We were gearing up like a professional band ( I wish it were a reality) !!! Uttam had never played drums before. But he had a good sense of how it works and how to catch up with the rythm. Yannick was my mentor as a guitarist. He had flair for lead and rythm guitars. Well, Nanda did his rythm guitar part very handsomly. I was very jubilant to perform with these guys.

Like this, there were lots of memories that I treasure in my heart. I remember the auditorium with royal touch.  I never felt nervous while climbing up the big stage. Instead of it, I felt very proud as an Anthonian. My friends were just like the delicious spices in a good dish. The dish of life and friendship. I treasured a number of friends who will be there with me in my weal and woe-anytime, anywhere.

There are lots of things to tell about the days I spent in Shillong, the Scotland of the East. I need space and time for it. I will be very much contented to jot down those moments in my blog. But, for today I have some other business.

Debility

Piercing my veins

All throughout my skin

The blister's going to boil up my mind

Tearing my heart into pieces.

The nightingale has betrayed me again-

I can see my tears

Vanishing into deep darkness of night;

The moon is never going to shine

Until I change my prejudice-

Making it into a rock-hard flight. 

The next sunshine

Heavily loaded with opium

Is really going to be awesome;

I'm a hurricane 

Destroying every black smile

That falls upon me

I'll also see

Who will be the Apollo

To deceive my momentum.

The passion for music

Music...this five letter word means so much to me. Right from the day I learned to stop and take heed of  every bit of sound that seemed to be soothing to my ears, I always could not help but wondering at the genius of the person who created music first. In this context, a quotation by a famous Indian musician, the Mozart of Chennai, A.R. Rahman is worth-mentioning - " Thanks to the creator for making music the language of languages."

The first lesson of music for me, as far as I remember, was to learn how to play the Harmonium. It was not so difficult for me as I was very keen and much excited to even touch it. Then came the lessons that laid the foundation stone for my singing abilities. At an age of  10, I went to a music college at our neighbourhood where I learned the ABC of Indian Classical Music. I have taken music as my hobby since those days. Slowly it turned into my passion and a great friend at the time of weal and woe. I use to sing when I am happy. I use to sing when I am sad. This can not be simply termed as craziness. The divine feeling that music gives to my mind is unparalleled. 


I remember an incident when I discovered my guitar smashed by somebody on a very gloomy day. I was deeply perturbed when I visited a music shop and found that my guitar was in an unrepairable state.  Almost six months of complete emptiness surrounded me after that day as I could not help but thinking about the great loss(the guitar). I lost a good friend. I lost my happiness, my emotion everything. But, one day I managed to meet a person who came into my life in the form of a saviour and repaired my guitar with great expertise. I rediscovered my jolliness. 

I know that there are so many people in the world who are mad about music. They think that music is part and parcel of life and I can proudly say that I am also one of them.

My school days

Every person comes across certain incidents and experiences in his life which make his life worth living, be it during his childhood, youth or adult phase. In fact, every phase of life add different colours to it. I cherish the school days when our mentors taught us how 1 plus 1 becomes 2 !! I remember the harsh- looking and very strict maid in our school who used to dress our fellow naughty boy classmates with girlish attires (as a form of punishment) and let everybody make fun of them. Luckily, I was never one of them, although I was not that quite kind of child. One fine morning, I started my school time with a couple of good punches and kicks  right at the big belly of one of my classmates for taking my notebooks home without asking me. Now, I wonder at my reaction ( may be "over reaction" will be appropiate). One day, on my way back to home after school, a perplexed horse came running behind me when I got the biggest shock of my life. I started screaming thinking that the poor horse was going to eat me that day.-) The sound of his hooves were ringing at my ears for many days.