lest we forget!

the wedding bells

this story is about my cousin's marriage....hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed his marriage.

Chapter 1- the imperfect groom

It was just 5.31 pm in Kolkata and street lamps were already lit up.

I was resting on an untidy bed piled with clothes, utensils, and plastics, etc.

“Where’s your brother?” asked a familiar female voice.

I looked up to see my cousin sister Tia, who was dressed in a beautiful saree.

“Practising for the next season of Indian Idol”, I said pointing towards closed door of the bathroom where the sound of water falling on the floor was dwarfed by my cousin’s singing- “Ami je tomar…sudhu je tomar” (I am yours… only yours)

My sister ran across the room and knocked on the bathroom door, “DADA!!! DERI HOCHCHE! MAA CHITKAR KORCHE!” (BROTHER!!! IT’S GETTING LATE! MOM IS SHOUTING!)

The singing stopped.

The bathroom door opened. A skinny, tall and dark man came out completely wet with a towel around his waist. His name was Dibakar Ghosh, my mama’s elder son, who was getting married today.

“Where’s mom? Please call her”, he ordered her.

After sometime, a middle-aged woman entered the room and started shouting at him as soon as she rested her eyes upon him.

“YOU ARE STILL NOT READY? Look at me! I am a woman and I am completely dressed, with the lipstick on my lips. And you are still wearing that 10 year old torn towel around your size zero!”

She looked like a dominant Saas from the soap operas in the TV.

He looked at me and then whispered something to his mother.

Though I thought that he must have said something to calm her temper but his mother looked angrier and slapped him on his shoulder.

“You don’t know where I keep your under wears! How will your wife tolerate you? You still behave like a toddler!”

My brother looked more embarrassed while I hid my face behind the cell phone to hide my laughter.

She went to the shelf and brought him some garments. Then she looked at him and frowned again. This time she brought another towel to dry his hair.

Once his mother was gone, he started dressing at my back while I played games on his phone.

“Help me!” he said after a few minutes.

I turned around and found my brother wearing a golden colored Kurta made of Tassar silk. He was also holding a 2 meter long white cloth in his hands.

“Are you thinking of wearing that saree?” I asked confusedly.

“Idiot! It is dhoti.”

It was then that I noticed his bare legs which were half covered by his kurta.

“MAA!” he shouted again.

I smiled while his mother helped him with the dhoti.

After she was gone, he looked at me and said, “How do I piss now?”

I thought of my pyjama which was held up by a simple Naada and couldn’t stop smiling at my brother’s helplessness.

Chapter 2- Punjab da Puttar

All of us, 14 adults and 5 children, gathered near the ambassador car which was decorated with red roses. On the other side was a group of people wearing red jackets and white trousers, carrying various musical instruments.

“Bakra ready ho gaya kya?” said a man aloud. The man was sporting a blue jeans, white T-shirt which read-“FBI: FEMALE BODY INSPECTOR” and a red turban. He was my brother’s best friend-Manpreet Singh and had come from Delhi.

My brother replied instantly, “Paaji main khud kushi ke liye ready hu!”

“Arre tune world cup ulta kyu pehna hai?”

My brother laughed heartily.

Actually it was a conical embroidered white cap called as TOPOR, made of a material called sola, weared by every Bengali groom.

“Jhontu! Sit in the car!” the groom’s mother shouted to her son.

“Maa! Please don’t call me by that name in front of so many people”, he replied angrily and sat inside.

Mama sat beside the driver while his daughter and wife sat on either side of the groom.

“C’mon children we will walk. It’s just half a kilometer”, announced my masi to all of us, “Arre Bhai Gaan Bajana suru koro!” And the Emotional Attyachaar tone roared in the neighbourhood.

*

Sardarji was resisting his legs from the moment the songs started.

After all he is a Punjabi!

As he was too embarrassed to be the only adult to dance in the procession, he asked all the elders separately to join him. But he was disappointed by -“Arre bhai, Paaye baitha!” (oh dear, I have pain in my legs!); “Dhoti khule jabe!” (Dhoti will come out!), etc.

But they clapped to the beats of the song to encourage their children who were dancing enthusiastically.

Sardarji poked me once and asked, “Common! Let’s shake a leg!”

If only he would have been a girl, then I would have said, “Let’s do it baby!” and would have bluffed about me giving a crash course to Hrithik Roshan on HOW TO DANCE!

“They could have arranged a horse. An ambassador car is too old fashioned, isn’t it?” I said to change the topic.

“Gadha ghode pe kaise baithega!” he said coolly.

At the same instant my brother summoned me from behind. I was too relieved to leave Sardarji and his dance topic alone in the crowd.

“Yes?”, I inquired.

Squeezed between two large but gorgeous women, my brother asked for an unusual request. I ran to the other end where the band walas were playing there instruments. I met the leader and instructed him to play TWIST-the hit number from the movie LOVE AAJ KAL.

No sooner did the song begin, than all the kids stopped dancing. Men and women on the streets gathered around us. From that distance I couldn’t see what was happening, but soon became aware of the reason for my brother’s special song request.

SARDARJI WAS DOING THE NAGIN DANCE!!!

It was a treat to all the eyes in the public to see a Sardarji joining his two hands to imitate a snake and then belly dancing.

After all… how many of us have ever seen a Sardar perform a NAGIN dance! I wish Shakira was here!

Chapter 3- Beauty and the Feast

The procession stopped in front of the guest house which was the venue for the wedding. The gates were decorated with colorful flowers. ‘Dibakar weds Anjana’ was written on a side. Small girls, who were supposed to gift red roses to each of the groom’s family members, stood near the gates.

All of us gathered near the car while Sardarji ran towards the Band party to pay them.

I stood near two teenagers from the bride’s family, who were waiting for the car’s doors to open. I overheard their mother instructing them, “If he is fat, no need to pick him up. Just hold his hands and take him inside.”

As soon as my brother stepped from the car these two teenagers picked him and made him sit on their shoulders.

“I hope his dhoti remains intact”, Tia commented while we followed them inside the house. They took the groom inside one of the rooms which was crowded with bride’s family. All the elderly people from girl’s family were blessing the groom. Similarly our family went to bless the bride.

As soon as the ceremony ended, I and Sardarji went inside and sat beside my brother who looked nervous.

“Are you OK?” asked Sardarji.

“I lost my shoes”, he said innocently, “I think they fell when those two goondas picked me up. They were Nagras brought from Rajasthan.”

“Don’t worry Jiju! They are as safe as your future wife”, said one of the pretty girls who were standing near the door, “Just pay us about Rs. 1000/- and get them back”

“These activities of yours make you worth being called as SAALIS!” taunted my brother while they giggled on his comment.

“What are you girls doing here? Don’t irritate the groom and his friends. Go away!” shouted an elderly lady. She turned to us, “Shub Mahurat is in 10 mins. Let’s go to the mandap!”

*

We left the groom at the mandap with bride’s father and an old pandit who was reading some Sanskrit shloks from a book to perform some rituals.

I and Sardarji grabbed the seats and started with the delicious feast.

“Are you from Bombay?” asked a pretty girl accompanied by another whom I assumed to be the saalis. Both of them pulled two chairs and sat near us.

I nodded not knowing what was about to come.

“Have you seen Sachin Tendulkar?” one of them asked.

People outside Mumbai think of it as a small city where everyone including the stars and cricketers stays in the same society.

“Sachin and I don’t talk anymore”, I said coolly. The girl was disappointed and asked me the reason. Sardarji was busy laughing while I answered her, “His son broke my window panes thrice in the same week while playing cricket. I know he is son of the Master Blaster but that doesn’t mean that he will blast my house!”

Before they could react, the girl who was teasing my brother with his shoes arrived at the spot. “What are you girls doing here? Masi is searching you both.”

She watched the girls till they went inside and then turned to us, “I hope the food is alright?”

“It’s delicious” said Sardarji while I said, “It’s okay.”

The girl looked embarassed at my reaction.

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“All the beauties are busy with the marriage. If someone as beautiful as you accompanies us then…”

“Really? I can solve that problem within a second”, and she went inside.

“Oh god! Her hair is silky! Her skin is Milky! She is just like a vanilla ice cream!” exclaimed Sardarji.

“Main line marr raha hu naa!” I said.

“Hello uncle!” said a small cute looking girl who was accompanied by the same girl.

“Isn’t she beautiful? Sona, why don’t you recite the new poem you learned yesterday?”

The small girl looked excited and started with BABA BLACK SHEEP.

She smiled at me and said, “Enjoy!”

I smiled back and found myself developing a crush on her. I looked at the kid who was eating a Vanilla ice cream and poked Sardarji, “Your Vanilla Ice cream!”

Chapter 4- the perfect bride

Ullullullu…this sound echoed in the hallway while all the people stood to get a glimpse of the bride who was carried on a wooden plank, lifted by her brothers while the women were making that funny sound.

The bride was covering her face with two betel leafs (paan). She was wearing the usual red bridal saree and a small crown on her head made up of sola.

“She is heavy!” I said to sardarji, “but I think she is beautiful.”

“Yes, Juliet marrying an Idiot!”

The groom stood at the center while the men carried the bride on the plank and revolved around him seven times. Then the bride was told to uncover her face and my brother blushed as soon as he saw her.

They exchanged flowers and sat down. All of us gathered to see the remaining ceremony where pandit was reading the shloks.

*

“Basor? What about the suhaag raat? And what’s Basor?” asked Sardarji.

“Well, we won’t allow them to have suhaag raat tonight. We will keep them awake” I said jokingly.

Basor meant all kinds of fun-music, drama, caricatures, etc. to keep the night alive.

The saalis and saalas entertained us all through the night. I and Sardarji were the only one who was representing the groom’s family while the others left.

“How did you propose?” asked one of the saalis to my brother curiously.

As the couple was too shy to recite their story, Aparna, the girl I had crush on, stood up and asked me to act with her.

“I will play the role of Jiju and you will be my sister.” I agreed.

All the eyes were fixed upon us. She bent down on her knees and took my left hand in her own and said, “I feel wonderful because I’ve seen the love light in your eyes; and wonder of it all is that you just don’t realize how much I love you”, she paused briefly and said, “Please marry me.”

I couldn’t stop myself from blushing.

I MEAN HOW MANY TIMES HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A GIRL PROPOSING?

I replied instantly. “Yes. When are we getting married?” And everyone laughed at my reply.

*

Around 3 am in the morning when all of us were tired and felt sleepy, Aparna played the song KAWA KAWA on her cell phone and asked the couple to dance.

It was fun to watch the newly wedded couple to rock n roll on those tunes.

My brother no longer cared for his dhoti!

“Aparna! Play that song” requested the bride. All of us stepped aside while the woman took her husband’s hand in her own and looked straight into his eyes. The dance floor melted into a romantic night when the recorded voice sang- TUJH MEIN RAB DIKHTA HAI…

*

It’s been a week since my brother has moved into his new house with his wife and I have returned to beautiful, bawdy Mumbai. But still the memories of that night- the new couple, Sardarji, Aparna and the song- Tujh mein rab dikhta hai… is fresh in my mind.

--ARITRA SEN

'WARRIORS & THEIR WONDER YEARS'

Hello folks! Its been a long time since i got a chance to write anything.....so here i am continuing what i have started a few months back...n plz forgive me if i have made grammartical mistakes more than I usually do bcoz I hardly got any time to revise what i have written. So any blunders, blame it to MS WORD....Read the first chapter before starting with 2nd one

chapter 2

PROGRAMMING IN C

I and Swapnil finished climbing those college stairs to reach our class room on the 2^nd floor (for Swapy it’s a big ordeal to climb stairs). Just outside our class room my eyes fell on the green notice board with a hand written notice on it- I HAVE LOST MY PEN DRIVE IN I.T. LAB. IF ANYONE FINDS IT PLZ CONTACT CAROL PINTO-SE COMPS. Swapnil a.k.a Swapy didn’t seem to be interested and he went inside while I read the notice again and several thoughts were whirling in my mind- what on earth is a pen drive? How big is it? Why students are allowed to carry such things? (In 2006, Pen drives were not very common. So stop thinking that I was some stupid!)

As I entered the class room I spotted Swapy sitting beside Paresh on the second last bench and Nikhil was alone on the last bench. This was my new group- Swapy, Paresh, Nikhil and me. We sat together, ate together and even leave the college together- ideal characteristics of a group!

As soon as our ‘Applied chemistry’ professor entered the classroom and started her HARD WATER- SOFT WATER topic, I turned to the last page of my rough book and made two parallel vertical lines intersecting two horizontal ones with my pen and placed an ‘O’ at the center. I pushed the book towards Nikhil who was copying down all the nonsense from the blackboard. He looked at me with a disapproving look and returned the book to me without saying a word. Seeing this odd behavior I suggested, “Look I made a O at the center, now you can place a X- ”

“Hey I know how to play X & O! I just want to concentrate, Ok?” he snapped.

Though I was left disappointed but I could understand his need to catch-up with on going lectures. Mr. Nikhil Bajaj, more popularly known as Niks, had a late admission like most others and was lagging in his studies. Though he was one of the happy-go-lucky guys, he took his engineering too seriously.

I looked ahead and found Swapy and Paresh already engaged in X & O’s. I looked around to see what others were doing and my eyes lingered upon Sikha (name changed)- the only not-so-bad looking girl in the entire classroom. After watching her for some time I was bored. I whispered to Swapnil, “Who is next?”

“Your favorite. CP!”

My heart lit up as soon as I heard CP-COMPUTER PROGRAMMING. This was the only subject where my brains were of some use. And it was taught by the not-so-bad looking professor- Miss Damdoo. She was not only beautiful but also had a great sense of fashion. No one on earth ever thought that this sweet looking woman can talk, walk and sleep with C programs.

“She never repeats her dress!” Swapy said loudly as soon as she entered in a hot yellow salwar kameez.

“Her boyfriend owns a garment factory!” exclaimed Niks and all of us started laughing. But amidst all this laughter, Paresh shook his head and all of us wondered what was on his mind.

“I will be her new boyfriend very soon” said Paresh and we laughed harder this time.

As far as Paresh Gaonkar was concerned, he was shortest of us all but one of the smartest human beings I ever met. He remains the undefeated champion of one liner in our group. He was one of those who spoke less but once he starts, its impossible to control our laughter.

While the other lecturers made it a mission to put us to sleep, Miss Damdoo’s beauty and her ‘not-so-bad’ teaching made those days pleasant for us. And if the rumours were to be believed our group was her hot favorite.

• Swapy’s fluent marathi and his 100 Watts smile could make any professor’s heart melt. As I and Swapy remained together for most of the time, she started recognizing me too. (They say it’s the Munna Circuit jodi!)
• Paresh was her little angel. “Oh Paresh, your journal is so neat and tidy…you remind me of my engineering days!” she said once and made Paresh her little hero.
• And NIKS! He didn’t have that pleasant start like the rest of us. It happened so in one of the CP practicals when Niks failed to show her the required output on the computer screen and Miss Damdoo asked him furiously, “What is your branch?”

Niks said proudly, “Madam, Computers!”

“CHOD DO!” and she turned her back towards the unfortunate Niks.

We couldn’t stop our laughter when Niks recited his story to us over lunch.

Days were happy but stressful. My feeling of going back to Bhavans- my junior college was erased by the new company of my ‘happy-go-lucky’ friends. Though the never ending assignments and the boring lectures kept us busy all the time, none of us were ever bored in this process of engineering. In fact we enjoyed every second of this new life.

Days passed like seconds and Months like minutes. And the submissions came around just before the exams.

For all those who are new to the term called ‘Submissions’, let me have the honour to redefine it on behalf of all the engineers living in Mumbai.

SUBMISSIONS- It is defined as a period where in students are allowed to complete their journals and teachers are given that enormous amount of freedom to burden students with new assignments as soon as they complete the previous one.

It is a week long affair before the vivas where teachers don’t take lectures as they assume that students are tortured beyond limits and students share the ‘Give-n-take’ relationship of assignments among themselves. And this event ends with students submitting their journals at the last minute and the evil professors give all kinds of excuse to avoid there ‘not-so’ favorite students- “Come after the lunch break”, “I won’t accept your journal because its so untidy”, “How do I know that you have completed your assignment on your own… not by copying from someone else…lets have a mock VIVA”, etc, etc. are the most common ways of traumatizing students.

And after this there is a gap called PL-preparatory leave where college remains shut for a few days and students finally open their brand new books for the first time to prepare for the exams as they were mostly busy writing assignments or chatting with some virtual friend on Orkut.

I and my friends went through all of them. I know dear reader that you are on the verge of tears that how these little TAARE ZAMEEN PAR must have went through but we had no choice. And this is called Engineering.

Coming back to our wonder years, I will jump straight to the 1^st day of our 1st Semester exams

Hundreds of students were gathered near the examination hall. I and my friends had a difficult time to find our seats.

“Merit toh fatt chuki hai!” said one of the girls to her friend. Though I overheard them, the fact was that I wasn’t feeling very confident either. All those thousands of feelings were bouncing inside my stomach.

I took out my bunch of pens, calculator and hall ticket from the bag and went straight into the examination hall. It was our drawing hall and was the biggest of all rooms that can have strength of about 120 people at a time. But today there were less number of people in the room. Most of the faces I saw that day resembled diarrhea patients of a hospital.

I wrote my seat number and other details very carefully on the answer paper so that I don’t make any blunders on the very first exam of my new life. One of the supervisors handed out a bad quality A4 sheet to me and moved ahead distributing the same to the remaining students. At first, I thought it was some kind of rough paper until I spotted some miniature fonts printed on the other side. To my amazement it was the question paper of the day! The quality of the question paper was so bad that even the local Bhelpuri wallas use better pages to serve bhel!

Within minutes of filling a few pages I realized that I wasn’t getting any answers. Goddamn Maths! After every few pages of mathematical gibberish I was writing, there were no straight answers. A sudden panic ran through my veins- what if I fail? I tried so hard to get into engineering and now this!

I scanned the room and saw Nikhil staring at the blank wall. Swapy was holding his pen inches from the answer paper but wasn’t writing anything.

After 3 hours of battle, the soldiers came out defeated.

“I am pakka gonna fail!”

“F**k this Mumbai University!”

“I think it’s just a nightmare or someone is playing some April fool joke!” were the few reactions that I heard on my way out from the exam hall. The first paper in engineering was like spending 3 hours in hell. And there were 4 more papers and a month long torture remaining.

Swapy took out his question paper and wrote on the top of it- ‘>35’ i.e. more than 35 marks while Nikhil was busy discussing the paper with Paresh.

That was the very moment when I prayed to god and said -“PLZ SAVE MY ASS!”

******************

Thanx for reading. Plz leave some comment so that i can improve my work...I wish to to write in soon.

--ARITRA SEN

Ganapati Bappa Moraya...........

परवा भेटला बाप्पा,जरा वैतागलेला वाटला
दोन क्षण दम खातो म्हणून माझ्याघरी टेकला
उंदीर कुठे पार्क करू ? लॉट नाही सापडला
मी म्हंटलं सोडून दे, आराम करु दे त्याला

तू पण ना देवा कुठल्या जगात राहतोस ?
मर्सिडिसच्या जमान्यात उंदरावरून फ़िरतोस
मर्सिडिस नाही निदान नॅनो तरी घेऊन टाक
तमाम देव मंडळींमधे भाव खाऊन टाक

इतक्या मागण्या पुरवताना जीव माझा जातो
भक्तांना खुश करेपर्यंत माझा जीव दमतो
काय करू आता सार मॅनेज होत नाही
पुर्वीसारखी थोडक्यात माणसं खुशही होत नाहीत

इमिग्रेशन च्या रिक्वस्ट्स ने सिस्टीम झालीये हॅंग
तरीदेखील संपतच नाही भक्तांची रांग
चार आठ आणे मोदक देऊन काय काय मागतात
माझ्याकडच्या फ़ाइल्स नुसत्या वाढतच जातात

माझं ऐक तू कर थोडं थोडं डेलिगेशन
मॅनेजमेंटच्या थेअरीमधे मिळेल सोल्यूशन
एम बी ए चे फ़ंडे तू शिकला नाहीस का रे ?
डेलिगेशन ऑफ़ ऍथॉरिटी ऐकल नाहीस कारे ?

असं कर बाप्पा एक लॅपटॉप घेउन टाक
तुझ्या साऱ्या दूतांना कनेक्टीव्हिटी देऊन टाक
म्हणजे बसल्याजागी काम होइल धावपळ नको
परत येउन मला दमलो म्हणायला नको

माझ्या साऱ्या युक्त्यांनी बाप्प झाला खुश
माग म्हणाला हवं ते एक वर देतो बक्षिस
सी ई ओ ची पोझिशन, टाऊनहाऊस ची ओनरशिप
ईमिग्रेशनदेखील होइल लवकर मग ड्युअल सिटिझनशिप

मी हसलो उगाच, म्हंटल, देशील जे मला हवं
म्हणाला मागून तर बघ, बोल तुला काय हवं
'पारिजातकाच्या सड्यात हरवलेलं अंगण हवं '
'सोडून जाता येणार नाही अस एक बंधन हवं'

'हवा आहे परत माणसातला हरवलेला भाव'
'प्रत्येकाच्या मनाच्या कोपऱ्यात थोडासा शिरकाव '
'देशील आणून परत माझी हरवलेली नाती '
'नेशील मला परत जिथे आहे माझी माती '

'इंग्रजाळलेल्या पोरांना थोडं संस्कृतीचं लेणं '
'आईबापाचं कधीही न फ़िटणारं देणं '
'कर्कश्श वाटला तरी हवा आहे ढोलताशांचा गजर '
'भांडणारा असला तरी चालेल पण हवा आहे शेजार '

'य़ंत्रवत होत चाललेल्या मानवाला थोडं आयुष्याचं भान'
देशील का रे बाप्पा माझ्या पदरात एवढं दान ?
"तथास्तु" म्हणाला नाही सोंडेमागून नुसता हसला
सारं हाताबाहेर गेलंय पोरा "सुखी राहा" म्हणाला!!!!!

*********************************************
--All Marathi poems which are present in this blog not written by me.

MOMENT OF TRUTH - aritra sen

Once upon a time in XYZ COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING, a funny incident happened…

Aashish, the tall-handsome-notorious boy, looked red faced when he entered the lecture hall.
“What’s wrong with you buddy? You look so… HOT” inquired his best friend Harish.
Aashish didn’t answer him at once and tried to ignore him. He sat on a bench and looked around himself- class was half-empty, some people were busy chatting in their respective groups and some were eating their lunch.
“Common! You can tell me.”
“You know… just before the lunch-break I was called by Professor Daruwala”, Aashish was looking away and didn’t try to catch Harish’s eyes, “she slapped me atleast half a dozen of times and there was no one to save me!”
“But why did she slap you?”
“Why? Remember I shouted “HATHNI AA RAHI HAI” before she entered the class yesterday”, Aashish sighed “someone from the class told her all about it.”
“Uh-oh…I am really sorry for this. I never thought she would actually slap you. I am your man buddy. It was I who confessed it to her” said Harish guiltily.
“What? What did you just do?” Aashish stood up and sprang on his friend like a hungry tiger and caught his best friend’s collar, “you owe me an EXPLANATION!!!”
“I know I do…can we just sit and talk.”
“Fine. Tell me why my best friend is trying to kill me.”
“Kill you? No. From last few days, I took a vow to speak the truth whenever I am asked. When Mrs. Daruwala asked me, I gave her the truth” said Harish defensively.
“That’s it?”
“No. I mean I am doing this because I have participated in a reality show where we win a crore in cash for speaking the truth.”
“A reality show? Better go and marry Rakhi Sawant instead! Psycho! You have given up your dignity, friendship and everything else for sale!” Aashish was yelling at his highest volume.
“But this is business my friend. Today, even cleaning someone’s dirty linen on television can bring you some quick money. And as far as selling my dignity is concerned it’s my dignity and I have right to sell it.
“I may have become sick but just imagine what we can do with a crore! It’s a huge amount of money…our whole life will be spent but the money won’t end!” said Harish.
Aashish considered it for a moment and before he could speak again he realized he had attracted some amount of audience to their heated conversation.
“We could enjoy the money together” Harish said calmly.
Aashish sensed the guilt in Harish’s voice.
“What’s the guarantee you will win?” he asked.
“Well if you are not going to help me then I am not winning a penny.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Ask me some practice questions.”

The notorious Aashish received a chance to take his revenge. He stood on a nearby desk and shouted to the students present in the hall, “Hey People! Moment of truth has arrived. It’s time for Mr. Harish to become Satyavadi Harishchandra.”
Half of the students rounded up near both of them.
“Mr. Harish wants to play- MOMENT OF TRUTH!” He bent down and whispered to Harish, “Let’s have a deal first- you lie and you have to pay our canteen bills for an entire day” Aashish said.
“OK! I don’t mind. But how will you know if I am lying. You can’t perform poly graph test.”
“Firstly you won’t lie because you are practicing for a game show and secondly I am very good at reading faces”, said a girl who was standing behind them. This overly smart and beautiful girl was Arundhati. Harish always hated Arundhati for her overconfidence and the famous ability to read faces. And more so ever she had lead many fights between him and his girlfriend-Jessica.
She just arrived at the hot spot with her gang of giggling girls
“Your one lie can empty your bank balance.”
Aashish knowing Harish’s discomfort with Arundhati tried to change the topic.
“Thank god Gandhiji is not here. He would have cleaned the reality show owners. My friend, are you ready?”
“Yes I am” said Harish proudly.
“I will ask you only 5 questions. So let’s play”, said Aashish, “My 1st question to you is- HAVE YOU EVER BEEN NAKED IN PUBLIC?”
“What??? You are my best friend…you know most of my life…why are you asking something that you already know?”
Girls around him had already started whispering as they had sensed his answer.
“Right now I am the show host and the audience around me might want to know about you” said Aashish.
Harish looked around and saw nearly a dozen boys and girls were staring at him. He closed his eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at their faces, and said “Alright…Yes I have been naked in public. Happy?”
“Not much…shed some light on this incident.”
“Alright. It happened while I was ragged in my first year. After the night’s dinner, I and some other ‘freshies’, were robbed off their clothes and were told that our clothes had been hidden at different spots in our hostel. We were told to search them. Each item of our dress was tagged with a clue to find the next item…TREASURE HUNT. I spent the whole night locating them.”
Arundhati’s eyes were as big as tennis balls when she heard Harish, “You were completely NAKED…I mean C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E-L-Y-”
“Stop imagining me naked!” shouted Harish.
All of them were laughing at Harish.
“I don’t want any more of these stupid questions. OK?” Harish said Aashish.
But Aashish had other plans.
“My next question- IS IT TRUE THAT YOU STOLE YOUR MOTHER’S NECKLACE AND GIFTED IT TO A WOMAN WHO WAS ABOUT 10 YEARS OLDER THAN YOU?”
Harish checked his sides and concluded that it was impossible for him to run away from this embarrassing situation.
“Yes. I was only 13 then and woman in the question was my History teacher. I had a huge crush on her and made plans for proposing her.”
“OKKKK”, said the crowd together.
“I gifted her that necklace, bent down on my knees and said- I LOVE YOU…I thought she would slap me at first but she didn’t, instead she kissed me on my forehead and told me to return the necklace from where I brought it. So my mother never knew about this incident.”
“Go on…you gifted a necklace to a woman, that’s so sweet!” exclaimed Arundhati.
“Next day she took me to a coffee shop with her where I met her fiancée. I never had a crush on some elderly woman after that!”
“OH! What a sad ending to our little Romeo’s love story!” said one of the girls.
“Please ask the next question. I can’t stand these girls and there stupid feelings”, Harish whispered to Aashish.
“Ok. My next question- HAVE YOU EVER CHEATED YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”
Arundhati, Jessica’s close friend was also shocked to hear that question, “If you say yes you will be killed by Jessica! And don’t try to lie, I will know!”
“Now I realize why politicians want to shut this program from televison”, Harish mumbled under his breath.
“As far as politicians are concerned”, Aashish had heard him, “they are afraid that this program may reveal their darkest secrets and if asked about their Swiss bank reserves, they can’t even lie.”
“Don’t change the topic. Ask him again.” Arundhati had been keen to listen about Harish and Jessica’s story.
“I ask you again. HAVE YOU EVER CHEATED YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”
“Very well my friend you have already showed me the path to my grave”, said Harish to Aashish, “Yes! I have cheated her. But only once!”
“So nicely said- ONLY ONCE…YOU MEN!!! Elaborate on that topic”, yelled Arundhati.
Harish stood up and explained her, “It was last year. I went to watch JAB WE MET with Jessica. After the movie I left her at the girl’s hostel and went back to the theatre where a school friend- Sikha was waiting for me. I went for the next show with her.”
“I can’t believe that!” said Arundhati shockingly.
“I will confess it to Jessica, but not now. Can you just keep this little secret?” cried Harish.
“Ok. Please ask him the next question Aashish.”
“May I ask you a B-grade question?”
“B-grade? What were these? A-grade?” snorted Harish.
“Don’t worry it’s a simple one- ARE CURVES THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE WHEN YOU SEE A GIRL?”
“Hey that’s not fair. Even president Obama was ogling the other day!”
“Aashish that was such a cheap question!” Arundhati frowned. “Ask him something better.”
“OK! My question to you is- HAVE YOU EVER SLEPT WITH A GAY?”
Harish’s face stiffened. He was expecting this for long. He saw the girls who were smiling at him as if they knew his answer already.
“Can you change the question?” Harish pleaded to Aashish.
“I have no such intension. Should I repeat the question for you?”
“No thanks! I hadn’t really slept with him. He was my room mate in my 2nd year.”
“OOOOOOHHHHHHH!” sang the crowd together.
“Shut up! It was only in the morning when I realized that someone else was inside my blanket. I felt his hairy hands all over me. I changed my room after that incident. I still get goose bumps when I think of it. And believe me nothing happened”.
Harish was sweating by then, turning towards Aashish, “YOUR NEXT AND LAST QUESTION WON’T BE PERSONAL ONE!”
But the audience was merciless. They couldn’t stop laughing.
“OK! Please chill. The last one- DID YOU-” Aashish stopped suddenly and then continued, “DO YOU THINK MRS. DARUWALA RESEMBLE AN ELEPHANT?”
“No.”
“You don’t”, Aashish was shocked.
“And he isn’t lying Aashish” confirmed Arundhati.
“She is not an elephant but she is a hippopotamus,” Harish said.
“What?” Aashish looked surprised.
“Mrs. Daruwala is a HIPPOPOTAMUS! You heard me right!”
“If that’s true you must accompany me to my office! NOW!” said a woman’s voice from Harish’s back. Everyone turned around to see a pleasingly plump woman standing behind Harish. She turned around and left the lecture hall just like a lioness who lashed her tail with anger.
“You saw her coming inside, didn’t you? You changed your question at last moment” Harish started swearing on Aashish.
Aashish smiled at him, kept a hand on his shoulder and said, “Truth is always bitter but only a few chose to take this path. You will surely win the MOMENT OF TRUTH!”

--ARITRA SEN

LECTURES!!! From a back bencher’s perspective-ARITRA SEN

I had never imagined myself so close to Katrina Kaif. She was holding my hands in hers…wow! Slowly she brought her face close to mine. Though I could feel her warm breath, I was unable to breathe myself... When all my excitement was almost reaching its peak she brought her lips close to my right ear and said in a very ‘Manly’ voice- “What’s in lunch?”
I looked back at her and to my dismay she was no longer that beautiful… Her hands were puffy, her face was shaven and she had suddenly become the fattest man I have ever seen. Oh god! It’s not Katrina any longer but, my best friend sitting beside me and looking at his huge stomach- must be hungry. I realized that my dream was put to an end and the nightmare has just begun-college lectures; I chose not to answer him and instead looked over the crowded chaotic classroom. A professor, in his late twenties, was standing on an elevated platform in front of the blackboard and was talking animatedly to the students. It’s tough for me to explain the persona of this lecturer-He was short and was whitish in complexion; long curly hair with a ponytail hanging at his back; loves to wear pink and has a very unique way of speaking -imagine Karan Johar………
His voice was so low that barely the first three benches could possibly listen to him, whereas at the last benches students were busy with something or the other (I always prefer to be a back-bencher :-) ). So instead of wasting my time in trying to listen to the professor, I started looking at my pals who are generally quite funny in such lectures. A friend of mine, who was seated on the 5th bench of my side row, was looking at his newly gifted golden watch-counting the number of minutes he had more to spend in tolerating the lecture…
Another guy, seated in front of me, was looking at the fairest girl of the class, who was in the 3rd row, from ours; at that moment I saw him murmuring to himself, “23”. Out of the curiosity I asked him, “what’s 23?”
He answered with a mischievous smile, “She yawned for the 23rd time!!!”
Before I could react to his answer, the mood of the classroom changed suddenly…
The professor was shouting at a dark guy, who was seated about 4 benches ahead of me. He came near to his prey so that at least he could hear him.
“1st time it was OK. 2nd time too, I left you. But this is the third time I am catching you sleeping during my lecture!”
Poor chap always gets spotted.
The way our professor was shouting at him, I was forced to remember my neighbourhood Aunty who loves to shout on small kids who mischievously press her door bell and run away. I could imagine her at the front in the classroom, beating her forehead again and again with her hands.
“He is a bit different, isn’t he?” whispered my fatty friend to me.
I knew what he was saying because I have already imagined Karan Johar and my neighbour Aunty in him.
After a few minutes of drama, the class got silent again. And to my surprise there was sudden improvement in his teaching- may be he was quite impressed by his own shouting capabilities.
But I am what I am. It was impossible for me to listen to a poor speaker.
And again She was near to me, smiling and touching my lips with her soft hands. I knew my life was going to change after this day… I slowly moved my lips towards her when……… she moved her lips away and whispered in a ‘Manly’ voice, “You are the next Bakra. Be alert”.
Before I could remove the soft hands of Katrina from my mind, a piece of chalk crashed on my forehead. Soon I became aware of the source of the flying chalk.
I stood up and apologized for my behaviour.
But the professor was in the mood for insulting me. He gave a long speech on maintaining discipline- I could say that he was enjoying the attention he was getting from the students for the first time…
So he kept me standing and continued with his lecture (Fortunately the voice was still not audible to :-) ). Someone from the back benches of last row murmured, “Sachin scored the highest Test runs!”
Oh! It was the India-Australia test series. People can even sacrifice their meals for cricket!
On looking who it was, I was shocked to see our class topper with his ears plugged to earphones- Generally he completes his assignments during such lectures, but this was going too far!!! I mean cricket during a lecture??!!
But nobody could be blamed for this situation, not even the professors. Most of the back benchers, though they prefer to maintain a low profile, are multi-talented. And most of us have no KT background or have at least an average of 60%. For example, the boy next to my ranker friend has a good hand in painting- his book is filled with fantastic portraits of our dear professors. And another friend of mine who has the most untidy bushy beard out of his chin- says ‘it’s unique’- is an amazing singer. A few of my female friends can play X and O’s, BOLLYWOOD and gossip around the whole row during all the lectures and still they are never caught- TALENT!!
I would have loved to write an essay on HIDDEN TALENTS OF THE BACK BENCHERS, but that wasn’t the appropriate time; the professor, who was now tired of his own lecture, asked me something. For the last time again, I couldn’t hear him and listening to him made me feel like a deaf person.
But I had to say something- standing alone like a fool with a fool in front asking questions, was proving to be very tough for me…
I said, “I don’t know SIR”.
And the students, sitting in front, the only people in class who could hear him started a riot of laughter- this was too much of an insult.
I softly asked my fatty friend, “Why are they laughing?”
He replied with a stupid smile displaying all his teeth, “As far as I could hear him, I think he asked you your name and you just said you don’t know”.
Realizing my mistake I answered correctly this time. The professor must have understood that I failed to hear him, so he came near to me and asked, “There is an error in the 3rd bit of that bit sequence on the board. Can you tell me what the correct answer is?”
Though I could see the blackboard where the bit sequence was written I couldn’t make out the exact numbers. Within a moment I realized that I was not wearing my specs- I don’t wear my specs when I am asleep.
By now the professor had already formed a fair idea about my attention to his lecture.
After wearing my specs, I read the number -11000110 from the board and answered with confidence, “1”.
He nodded and my eyes trailed him walking back to the board. At this point of time, I caught the eyes of a cute girl, seated on the starting benches, smiling back at me...
Nah! She is not impressed. I mean nobody would be.
The reason being that, our whole world (world of IT engineers) revolves around 1’s and 0’s. If the answer is not one, it has to be zero and vice versa.
After I was asked to sit the bell rang and I heaved a sigh of relief. At last the torture was over, another lecturer would come now and put us to sleep, when I could again meet my Katrina…
“For the last time I am asking you what’s in for lunch?” asked my hungry-angry friend again.
Before I could answer him someone shouted “ATTENDANCE???”
But the professor had left. Our patience was tested and wasted. And I was seething with anger; it was reaching almost at its boiling point- he insulted me over 15 minutes and now… I don’t even deserve attendance!!!

That’s how life is supposed to be. No matter where we are seated, only our perspective towards life changes. So enjoy the lectures; pay attention to them (only if you can otherwise don’t force yourselves) and ask for your attendance when you deserve it.
-ARITRA SEN

Swapnil(swapy) said..

Ye poem unake liye hai jo garve(proud) feel karate hai
ki unaki ab tak koi 'Girlfriend' nahi hai........


गर्लफ्रेन्ड नसल्याचा अभिमान
अहो ऐकलं का ?
आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

आमच्या बाईकच्या मागच्या सीट वर धूळ नेहमीच असते
बसुन बसुन त्यावर एखादा संटा,तर कधी एखादी माशीच बसते
अणी बाईक पूसण्याचे आम्ही काधिच श्रम घेत नाही
कारण , आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

सिनेमा बघायला आम्ही गॅंग मधे जातो
मस्त एक बास्केट पोपकोर्न तासभर खातो
आणि बुड्ढी का बालचा चिक्कट.वाडा काधिच घ्यावासा वाट्त नाही
कारण , आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

वीकएंड्ला आऊटींग करतो, फ़क्त मित्रांबरोबर्च घालवतो
काही नाही तर मस्त झोपा काढतो
अणी रात्री बे रात्री काधिच कोणाला SMS करत नाही
कारण , आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

आमचे मोबाईलचे बिल फ़ार जास्त येत नाही,
दिवस भरात २-४ कॉल होतात, जे फ़क्त घरी कींवा मीत्रांना असतात,
आणि आमचा फोन कधीच जास्त एंगेज येत नाही
कारण , आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

मित्रांच्या सगळ्या प्लान मध्ये आम्ही शामील असतो,
कधिच दूसर्र्यांच्या प्लान्स मध्ये तोंड घालत नाही,
सुट्टी आम्हाला कधीच एकांतात घालवावीशी वाटत नाही,
कारण , आम्हाला गर्लफ्रेन्ड नाही...!

*********************************************************************
Note:Those who can't see Marathi font in 'internet explorar'
try to access this with "Mozila Firefox".

MOVIE "HOPE"

Michael Gnana says..........
This video "HOPE" is the second movie made in the same mobile movie making competition held
in our coll tech fest "TRANSMISSION 09".
even this movie was not selected , but no problem vl win the next year........
This movie "HOPE" & the movie "MISTAKE" was made together
V had a great fun in making..
V vl be back with another new movie soon
so wait.........
Actor : Karthik
Director n Writer : Aritra
Camera Man : Nikhil
Editor : Michael , Aritra
Special Thanks : Jason D'mello (small kid in the movie)

STORY: IT'S A FAILURE TO SUCCESS STORY...INSPIRED BY A TRUE STORY

MOVIE "MISTAKE"

Michael Gnana says..........
This video "MISTAKE" is our first movie , made for a mobile movie making competition held in our college tech fest "TRANSMISSION 09"

Though v had not won . This movie is very close 2 my heart.
This movie reminds me about the wonderful moment v spent together to make this movie
Plzz check out this movie.....
Actors: Paresh , Swapnil , Aditya
Director : Aritra

Story Writer : Swapnil
Camera Man : Nikhil
Editor : Michael
Voice : Karthik , Aritra

STORY: IT'S A TALE OF TWO FRIENDS SET IN THE BACKDROP OF 7/11 TRAIN BLASTS

Friendship

Swapnil(swapy) said........

This Poem tell what freindship it is:

*मैफ़लीत रंगून जाते ती मैत्री
जीवनात विलीन होऊन जाते ती मैत्री

*मैत्री हा असा एक धागा,
जो रक्ताची नातीच काय
पण परक्यालाही खेचून आणतो
आपल्याही मनाला जवळचा करून ठेवतो
आपल्या सुख-दु:खात तो स्वत:ला सामावून घेतो.

*मैत्री करण्यासाठी नसावं लागतं श्रीमंत आणि सुंदर
त्याच्यासाठी असावा लागतो फ़क्त मैत्रीचा आदर

*काहीजण मैत्री कशी करतात?उबेसाठी शेकोटी पेटवतात अन
जणू शेकोटीची कसोटी पहातात.स्वार्थासाठी मैत्री करतात अन
कामाच्या वेळेस फ़क्त आपलं म्हणतात
शेकोटीत अन मैत्रीत फ़रक काय?दोन्हीपण एकच जाणवतात

*मैत्री करणारे खूप भेटतीलपरंतू निभावणारे कमी असतील
मग सांगा, खरे मित्र कसे असतील?

*कधी भांडणाची साथ, कधी मैत्रीचा हातकधी प्रेमाची बात,
अशी असते,निस्वार्थ मैत्रीची जात

*या मैत्रीचा खरा अर्थ केव्हा कळतो?
नेत्रकडा ओलावल्या अन शब्द ओठांवरच अडखळला,
मित्र या शब्दाचा अर्थतो दूर गेल्यावर कळला.

'WARRIORS & THEIR WONDER YEARS' by Aritra Sen

‘Jagmagaate Hain, Jhilmilaate Hain Apne Raastein
Yeh Khushi Rahe, Roshni Rahe Apne Waaste’

When I look back upon those years where we were together, I smile and then I feel sad at the same moment. It pains me to think that only few days are remaining for my college years to come to an end. For me and most of us, it’s been a magical journey so far. No…I am not talking about HARRY POTTER kind of magic. But this magic is called friendship which brought most unlikely souls together.So here I am writing the very first blog on this site. This is the story of all those years I have spent in my engineering college (-partly fictional and partly real) and how I met these beautiful people in my life. Before you start reading this post there’s one request…plz post comments-GOOD, BAD, WORSE, WORSE THAN WORST, etc. so that I get to know about your views.!!FLASH BACK!!
*****

chapter 1
THE NEW BEGINNING

It was 19th of August ’06. I quickly looked through the headlines of the morning newspaper and directly skipped to the last page where daily horoscopes are printed. I looked at my back to make sure my mother was no where near as she doesn’t want me to believe in horoscopes. She says they write Shit! As soon as I saw she was in kitchen I quickly read, “SAGITTARUS: Your day will include traveling. Those who are seeking for careers will succeed. And finance…” I relaxed.

Like my mother, I too didn’t believe in horoscopes but lately my CET results were worse than I ever expected it to be. I scored 146/200 i.e. nearly 8000 rank in Mumbai, in my entrance exam and I was well aware that these marks will land me in no good college. After a week of tension and stress my application was accepted in an engineering college. Though I was happy to receive this news over internet but my happiness didn’t last too long. Adding to my woes, this college was only a year old and there was no hope for placements!!! But I was left with no choice. I had to make a decision for my future. And so I did…

I and my parents were more than just excited to visit this college. I can’t forget that first journey to this college. Cars running on the road connecting to the college reminded me of formula one races, except there were Lorries too. Thankfully there were traffic signals at a few places. But something more distasteful was lying ahead on that road…OMG! Slums on the left (quite similar to what we saw in the recent international hit SLUMDOG MILLIONARE) and on the right there were railway tracks inhabited by these slum dwellers for morning refreshments! (This was shown respectfully in the same film to suit the Americans) But my college was unlike what I saw out there on the roads. The decent atmosphere inside the campus was quite encouraging for peace lovers like me. I took admission at this place and started attending lectures after a few days.

My feeling of “decent atmosphere” evaporated as soon as I started attending the lectures. The professor was teaching some subject known as BEEE (forgive me as I can’t remember the full form of BEEE…one of those E’s must be electronics). Lecturer was hardly 21. And the numb students surrounding me were 60’s out of 200 in CET. I remember joking it to my mother-“don’t be surprised if I get a 1st rank in this college”. It never happened!To say the truth I had no real FRIENDS even after a week. Days passed by and I fancied going back to Bhavans-my junior college. I dreamt of watching those old faces…the people whom I call FRIENDS. It was one of my friend’s birthday and I called him to wish. To my surprise he shouted at me, “Kaminey! tera admission hogaya yeh mujhe kisi aur ke muh se sunna padha!” Actually I was so much embarrassed by my admission in this new place that I almost forgot to inform these people that I have taken admission.

It was nearly two weeks after the college started I met someone who was so unlike me and at the same time like me in every manner. I was in carpentry workshop. All of us were given saws to cut wood. It was a tiresome job for me and others. At that very moment I saw a fat guy at an end, holding the saw with both his hands and staring at others as if someone else will come and do that work for him. That day I met Swapnil Rane. As far as appearances matter he was the fattest person I ever saw. He reminded me of myself when I was in Vth std. and I resembled a Vada pav then (I am quite slim now!). When I was that big and people used to tease me, I used my extra weight to punch them. But with Swapnil a.k.a Swapy it was exactly opposite. He liked joking about his fatness. One of the most common jokes he cracks while ordering food from canteen is to count himself thrice, adding to our budget. He knows it very well that life is never fair and it plays games with you all the time. Instead of showing his back to tough times in life (that I usually chose to do before I met him), he shows his big fat stomach to it so that the problem bounces back. If I say that I met one of the coolest person that day, then I am not wrong at all.That day I met a warrior…a unique personality who taught me to deal with this unfair life. I made a FRIEND for a lifetime and I am very proud to have him in my life.
*****
Today I end here as I am too tired of typing. But I will write soon once I get your feedback. There are so many more unique people in this group…I hope you would like to read it.
-ARITRA SEN