Sunday, December 20, 2009

Avatar: a visual masterpiece


Avatar is definitely a dream project of James Cameron. 12 years and $320 million went into the making of what I felt was a visual extravaganza. Right before Avatar's world-wide release, the film picked up 4 nominations in the 67th Golden Globe awards: Best Motion Picture - Drama, Best Director - Motion Picture, Best Original Score - Motion Picture and Best Original Song - Motion Picture.

The bold colors made the film visually very striking. While watching the Pandora I kept on thinking will Avatar change cinema? I think, as many of you already do, it already did in many ways. There was nothing new about the story of Avatar. Yet it had the power to keep the audience engrossed in the film.

After Titanic, Cameron took a 12 year break to make Avatar. The director shot his actors on blank stages first and then his cameras that has been developed over years, turned the shots into the beautiful Pandora. Truly, Cameron with his army of Avatar has not let his fans down... Cameron did a meticulous job by enlisting a linguist to create a full language for the Na'vi with its own phonetics, lexicon and syntax.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

sedin raat er shonge onek kotha holo amar...diner alor saathe amar arr raater boro shotruta....alo ke boro kheen laage amar ondhokarer gobhirotar samne...kothaye jeno hariye jaaye she...monthorar motto boro duschokri...ghapti mere lukiye pore ek kon e shondhye namar saathe saathe...tokhon ta ke hajar khujleo pabe naa...bhorer dik e thik udoy hobe...birdorpe...sara prithibike jholshiye najehal kore tobe jaabe...

amar tai boddo raag ei alor opor...ei alo andharer khelar majhe jetuku somoy oi raat ta ke pai amra eke oporer saathe moner praner onek kotha bole ni...

ek ek somoy mone pore koto raat kete gechhe janlar gorad dhore dariye....pasher ghor theke kokhono bheshe eshechhe ma baba r tukro tukro koloher awaj...kokhono ba kukurer gheu gheu...ami nischup e dariye shunechhi shei shob...awaj korini...pache keu bujhe fele amar ostitya...onnomonosko hoye dube thekechhi jyotsnar futfute aloye...naak e bheshe eshechhe rangan phool er gondho...mugdho noyon e dekhechhi akasher tara...koto din gunteo chesta korechhi
Agrum bagrum chhora likhi...
Moner majhe khoi...
Tepantorer math periye...
Niye jabi oi...
Oikhanete nil akaash...
R achhe megher ghor...
Toke bolbo moner kotha...
Tui ki amar por??

Monday, July 13, 2009

tired tired tired....whats this shit happiness all about?? if it really exists y cant i be happy for sometime?? y am i nt served the best atleast for a day?? y cant i be placed rightly with the right people?? y shudnt i be loved back?? i hate happiness....i run away from it...mirage...like something glittering...u want to get hold of it...but u cant...the more you try the more it runs away from you....but tiredlessly i keep trying...keep hoping for the dawn to come...keep waiting for the fresh breeze followed by the rain to drench me completely...to flood mee with happiness....

Tuesday, June 23, 2009


I know I am strange..but how strange am I? To some a complete unknown living or dead or unmovable creature...i have never turned around to see that frown...hanging around on my own like a wandering soul...time around me keeps changing...i sometimes remain unchanged...running on my toes to catch those strings of the little puppets....

as it is present now...will later be past...the future comes too soon so I dont bother myself much bout the future...as I woke up in the middle of the night....rising from my dream to take a step further into the real world...the wind was heavy...i offered him my hands but he took me by his arm...i knew it wasnt him I was craving to be with...i knew it wasnt him...but I secretly accepted him...i hadnt wanted to be with him...yet I couldnt let him go...i am sorry for what I have done....but I just did it...

I walked endlessly...down the narrow lanes..up the hilly trails...thru the forests...stopping by the river...and met hungry children crying for food...the war was still on...people lived on roads without food, shelter and clothes...

the oceans roaring...dead people scattered on the shore...no one to burn their mortal bodies...the cold has engulfed the rest...i walked down every alleys to get away from the scene....but failed...its still pounding on my brain...

there are still sweet pretty things in life...like a baby so beautiful in her mother's womb....like the rainbow on the horizon after a rain....like the rising sun painting snow capped peaks....like the pounding heart to waiting to meet his beloved during the spring...like the moon so beautiful when it shines thru the trees...

like walking alone in the rain...and when u are in a trance...everything around u fades and blends into one color....when u have no way to go...no home...no one you need to care for....

how does it feel? To be on your own...with no direction home...complete unknown...like a rolling stone...

Friday, June 5, 2009

a day to office

Waking up
brushing teeth
newspaper
brushing teeth
coffee
bath
breakfast
dressing up
breakfast
missing socks
irritation
shoe lace
lock
cell phone
bus stop
cell phone
crowded bus
good bye smiles
crowded bus
pushing inside
sweat
heat
shouts
push
sweat
holding on to the rod
more push
irritation
sweat
conductor
shouts
stamping feet
feud
more argument
sweat
odor
pushing
stoppage
push harder
push
push
getting down
fresh air
arranging dupatta
cell phone
auto line
wait
call wait
irritation
redial
call wait
auto
line break
push
argument
crowded bus
push
sweat
odor
shouts
push
ticket
stoppage
crossing road
heavy traffic
speedy cars
step back
step forth
speedy cars
step forth
crossed
office lift
line
wait
more wait
7
8
9
8
7
6
5
4
3
2
1
0
push
crowded lift
odor
claustrophobic
2
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6
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Thursday, May 28, 2009

With a humming heap of activity amidst a cosmopolitan atmosphere, my Kolkata is the most charming place on earth...

check out the rest here...
the first things in life are worth remembering. The first silence, the first exchange of looks, the first rain drops after a dry, yet fertile summer days. rains are like angles with wings of desire, never tired of floating from the sky of one heart to another. the rains on a child's eyes, on green leaves and the on window pane. the chattering, blabbering of the drops when it flows through the pipe. the music played by these drops are innocently composed by the grey clouds. the smell of earth when soaked by these drops of innocence is like the aroma of my child's breathing. the crowne eluded the mighty hands of all seasons .... rains have always been compared to love. rains can never be caged, they elope with the matured clouds of emotions... rains on my palm, the feeling the numbs senses, you die so many times in the arms of rains, not to repent the death ......... rain

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

The monsoon has arrived...and it has hit the city in full form.... drenching its people, flooding its streets and scattering crushed leaves and broken branches of uprooted trees the rain and storm engulfed the city rather than overwhelming it....a little boy staying next to our apartment tried to float paper boats in the water puddled all around....the wind was sharp....my heart yearned to reach out to the little boy and help him sail his boat....

the rain always gives me a news life....it works as a strange excitant for my soul. It brings out a child in me with every drop falling on my face....i looked up to catch a glimpse of rekha boudi who perhaps have retired from her household work and might have taken a break to her balcony after lunch...i feel amazing to see her....rekha boudi is educated and intelligent...yet she has compromised her career and surrendered herself to live the life of a nurse for her old feeble father in law...she was looking at the grey sky and perhaps thinking of what was and for what is not... did I see a few meaningless tears rolling down her cheek?? or was it the rain that have sheltered me into a mellow tone....??

the rain has always evoked poetry, music, love and unruly passion in mee...i yearn to make love with someone when it rains to heavily....under the open sky, rain pouring down on us.....for many times I have spent lazy afternoons gazing at the rain from my window and thinking of my high school love....

rain is always loved and cherished by mee....its such a welcome relief...there had been many afternoons and midnights when I had sat gazing at the downpour for hours....my bengali poetic heart had felt the sweet bitter pain of nostalgia....i had thought of the days when I was forced to catch a crowded bus and head to work when the most I craved for was to meet you...i had called you up every time it rained to say how badly I wanted to be with you and you have made mee understand how important it was for both of us to go to work and how impossible for you to meet...with wet eyes I pretended to be an understanding lover...

Sunday, May 24, 2009

I sank in pain when u uttered those words....did u feel good when u hurt mee?? did u feel good when u broke my heart?? did u feel good when u heard mee crying?? did u feel good when I said I was broken inside?? I had been so stupid all these days...making a fool of myself...and u must have felt sorry for this brainless woman who wasted all her life to love you more...u must have laughed a thousand times when I spoke words of love to you...did it ever make any sense??

Thursday, May 14, 2009

last night I dreamt I went to the hills again....the green and blue rolling mountains wrapped in early morning hues took my breath away....was someone with me there?? anyone?? uh I cant recall....I feel am getting older...cant remember half of the things really...i started walking down the winding ways fluttering my hands...i do it all the time...it makes me feel as if I am flying... I kept on walking, running, flying...while I hummed Dylan's favorite “how many roads must a man walk down before u can call him a man....” the cold wind was cutting through my face....i was happy and felt like a princess.....one more turn and I came face to face with the majestic beauty of snow capped Kanchenjunga....what I saw was beyond my wildest imagination...the Himalayan peaks tore into the blazing blue sky of the breaking dawn....


Saturday, February 28, 2009

someday......

Someday, maybe, I'll just be independent...just not need a firm shoulder to lean on...just not wait for the phone to ring that will comfort mee...just not wait to see the button green as I login to gtalk...just not expect those sweet nothings on my cell phone's inbox.....I'll stop telling myself that I am capable of fulfilling all my desires.... I'll perhaps know that I suffice.... I'll finally start wearing bright colors... I'll stop thinking about the times we have spent together... the neat little cushion of time that have gone by... it is the most comfortable thing of my life after the cozy corner of my bed....

I have already started feeling swish, and important watching movies alone... I buy myself perfumes and chocolates when I so dearly want them... I go to cool ice-cream parlors and coffee bars in the most posh shopping malls and treat myself with a chocolate brownie with ice-cream or simply black coffee... I'll not find another man...wouldn't mind this obnoxious price I have to pay.... I'll stop bothering about the merciless ridicules....

Someday I'll not need a shoulder....someday I'll sleep on my own....
Often I think of the beautiful town
That is seated by the sea;
Often in thought go up and down
The pleasant streets of that dear old town,
And my youth comes back to me.
And a verse of a Lapland song
Is haunting my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,
And catch, in sudden gleams,
The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,
And islands that were the Hesperides
Of all my boyish dreams.
And the burden of that old song,
It murmurs and whispers still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the black wharves and the ships,
And the sea-tides tossing free;
And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,
And the beauty and mystery of the ships,
And the magic of the sea.
And the voice of that wayward song
Is singing and saying still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the bulwarks by the shore,
And the fort upon the hill;
The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,
The drum-beat repeated o'er and o'er,
And the bugle wild and shrill.
And the music of that old song
Throbs in my memory still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay
In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay
Where they in battle died.
And the sound of that mournful song
Goes through me with a thrill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I can see the breezy dome of groves,
The shadows of Deering's Woods;
And the friendships old and the early loves
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves
In quiet neighborhoods.
And the verse of that sweet old song,
It flutters and murmurs still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

I remember the gleams and glooms that dart
Across the school-boy's brain;
The song and the silence in the heart,
That in part are prophecies, and in part
Are longings wild and vain.
And the voice of that fitful song
Sings on, and is never still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

There are things of which I may not speak;
There are dreams that cannot die;
There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak,
And bring a pallor into the cheek,
And a mist before the eye.
And the words of that fatal song
Come over me like a chill:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Strange to me now are the forms I meet
When I visit the dear old town;
But the native air is pure and sweet,
And the trees that o'ershadow each well-known street,
As they balance up and down,
Are singing the beautiful song,
Are sighing and whispering still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair,
And with joy that is almost pain
My heart goes back to wander there,
And among the dreams of the days that were,
I find my lost youth again.
And the strange and beautiful song,
The groves are repeating it still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

JAI HO


Well this years Oscar – It was never this close to my heart. I had worked upon it for months. Writing reviews, gossips and news updates. The 2009 Oscar Prediction keyword went up to rank 3rd in google search engine. I have raised my voice for Slumdog, fighting with all my friends those who predicted the film would be bashed up at the event.

And yes, how happy I was, writing live news updates while the Oscar took place. I was in office since 5 in the morning watching the stars dazzling Red Carpet in designer wear. And I cant express the way I cheered every time Slumdog bagged a nod.

I hear everybody speculate about 8 Oscar nods of the rags to riches story. But hey guys do u remember that the highest degree of cinematic excellence is awarded at the Oscars where films like Titanic take home 11 nods? So what even if the most boring, bespectacled, loaded with intellect, salt and pepper haired cynical critics have written off Slumdog Millionaire? I am happy for my own country's win. I am happy that Rahman has become the first Indian to win 2 Oscars. Whatever it is... I, like an average minded person, only feel that OUR Rahman has swayed 2 Oscar nods.... Now its our Rahman….no more communal colors guys!


Wednesday, February 4, 2009

dark circles



Our love will never end...Every time, I was made to live my life without u, I wished I could tear myself away from the mess...long sleepless nights, pillows dampen with choked sobs, a night-long of wait until random thoughts start rumbling...i walk to gaze at the beggar sleeping on the footpath near the light post on the other side of the window. Without me, I thought the whole world could sleep...even u... Like I desperately want to. Sleep in peace...at least tonight... memories were cluttering in my mind....I dreamt poems I wrote when I fell in love...ten years too late...wish I could borrow my dreams I had dreamt then to see you once....dark circles fill a larger part of my face...if u weren't there I would have my own mornings, my own little triumphs, my won joys and celebrations...i am now a selfish soul...i laugh to see the sadness in his eyes...i puke when my friends share their sorrows with mee....i ball to see him suffer....

Monday, February 2, 2009

We met...after a long time...we were not destined to...yet we met...and as we had thought...we ignored...did he wanna clear d air???...i thought....my heart was beating faster as our eyes met...now it was my turn...i will make him feel like an insect....make him want mee...want to speak to mee...but it's of no use...everything has changed...twas too late...there would be no choice of going back now...hmph...i wish d pages were written in pencil...an eraser would have sufficed...but then d impressions remain...

Saturday, January 31, 2009

amar raat jaga tara


Amar Bhindeshi Tara
Akaa Rateri Akashe
Tumi Bajale Aktara
Amar Chilekotahr Pashe
Thik Shondhe Namar Mukhe
Tomar Naam Dhore Keu Daake
Mukh Lukiye Kaar Buke
Tomar Golpo Bolo Kaake
Amar Raat Jaga Tara
Tomar Onno Parae Bari
Amar Bhoy Pawa Chehara
Ami Adote Anari ||

Amar Akaash Dekha Ghuri
Kichu Mitthe Bahaduri
Amar Chokh Bedhe Dao Alo
Dao Shanto Shitol Pati
Tumi Mayer Moto Bhalo
Ami Aklati Poth Haati

Amar Bichiri Ak Tara
Tumi Nao Na Kotah Kaan E
Tomar Kisher Ato Tara
Rasta Paar Hobe Shabdhane
Tomar Gaye Lagena Dhulo
Amar Dumutho Chal Chulo
Rakho Shorir Haat E Jodi
Aar Jol Makho Dui Haat E
Pls Ghum Hoye Jao Chokhe
Amar Mon Kharaper Rat E

Amar Rat Jaga Tara
Amar Akash Choya Bari
Ami Paina Chute Tomay
Amar Akla Laage Bhari

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