Reminence of Sanctity

Gone are the days when people compared educational institutions to religious places and the holiness of the former was epitomized therein. But as the wheel of time has rolled ahead, the sanctity of these places has not only been undermined, in some cases even demeaned. The reasons for this are numerous and the purpose of my writing is not to delve into those.

I attend a Catholic College, run by reverred nuns we learn discipline which is synonymous with their personality and etiquette follows close at hand. Out of sure habit, I step into the church which stands tall outside my college building, everyday.

I step in, bow my head, murmur a word of prayer and leave. I seldom sit down to pray for long because those few minutes make me feel peaceful enough.On some days, I see a group of students in the church, as they attentively hear the Mass proceedings as a priest conducts them. These are the students from the school, which shares the campus with our college.

This morning, as I entered I was greeted by a rather unusually pleasant sight. One that I had seen: in movies, read about: in books, alone. I had never experienced such a scene and it was a splendid one at that!

I saw little girls, most probably girls in class four or five, at the Confession Boxes. They knelt keenly by the 'window' and spoke eagerly with the Father on the other side. Even that practise had a disciplined conduct because the girls stood in a line on the side and maintained safe distance so as not to eavesdrop!

It was probably not extraordinary, but the fact that I don't see it regularly, made it so!
I started to think what these little ones would have to share with the priest. How strange are the ways of the world, we can tell strangers what we can't tell our dear ones.
My trail of thoughts led me on and I realized that maybe psychiatrists came into being from this practise itself. I think it is nice for the children to be exposed to such experiences. It goes a long way, in their life. I can say that because I didn't go to such a school where we had someone with whom we met for the sole purpose of lightening the load of our conscience. I am not complaining, because undoubtedly we had wonderful teachers who fit into this role very well. But what matters is when you tell your mind: "Ok, so this is it! Such-and-such day and so-and-so time we shall unload our heart to this person" because we sometimes feel closer to the people we don't know at all.

Kahaani: The mother of a story.

Yesterday was a rather very long day for me. I was out from 9am and stepped back home past 7 in the evening. I had no complaints because I like busy days. For me, it means that sleep will come easily and the sooner my eyes shut without getting caught in the trail of thoughts that run a rat race in my mind, the better(read: best) it is.

Nevertheless, as a results of a heavily packed day, I had no idea of the news: whether political upheavals or the earthquakes which have been unkind enough to 'visit' northern parts of our country much too often for anyone's liking.
It was not before the 9pm Newshour on Times NOW that I found out Mamata Banerjee's new 'stunt' of Mamatagiri.  And as I heard Arnab Goswami conduct the one hour show in the manner that he usually does,( I've never really found an adjective that describes it perfectly) I found out that Madam Chief Minister had expressed her disagreement to the Railway Budget that was presented by Dinesh Trivedi, an MP in power from the TMC party itself.

The discussions went on and I had this extreme urge to write on it but I didn't touch my laptop because my books were calling out to me: they just needed  my attention.

So, I decided to write this morning about the issue. After all, knowing Mamata Banerjee more time would mean more twists and more drama which would mean better writing matter.

Then, this morning my friend decided to take me to a morning show movie and I agreed. We set out to watch the 'mother of a story' and then! In the 120 minutes, I forgot all about Mamatadidi  because Bidya was far more fascinating.I forgot all about the problems and chaos that has befallen our state. I forgot that we are in the hands of a Government that is pointing finger at each other. I was amazed to see Vidya, aka, Bidya Bagchi; as she took it upon herself to find her way to justice instead of justice finding her.
On hindsight, I thought upon the last dialaogue that says Ma Durga comes to Earth and washes away all negativity. The reinforcement of that bit of information, made me think: Might we have Mid-term polls post Durga Puja this year?

Talking of the film, it's a must watch for every Kolkattan, and for every movie lover in general. The story is amazing and the cinematography is beyond description. The dialogues are amazing and a little humour here and there helps to lighten the mood. But just as you settle back in your chair, poof! the screen beckons.

The mysterious character of Bob Biswas was scary by my judgement and his way of saying Namashkar will make me think twice before I greet someone in the same manner. There are no interrupting songs in the film where they've taken you off to another location and you've forgotten what the previous scene was. However, that also means you get no time to step out for Coke and popcorn, except the interval!

Jokes apart, this flick needs no popcorn to keep you glued to your chair.

If books are page-turners, films are no-eye-blinkers. And this one surely falls in that category!

So, if you are disheartened by seeing the "Ides of March: Bengal 2012 Version", where Mamata plays Brutus and Dinesh, Caesar; book your tickets for this movie and you'll surely enjoy it.

Sorry, for a-not-so-good style of writing the film review. I always get less than 50% marks for writing a film-review in my exam!

Celebration of Colour

India is a country where there is no dearth of celebration. We celebrate festivals all round the year, sometimes the beginning of a calendar season, sometimes the end of it. Whether beginning or end, we find joy in all things alike and our festivities range from colours to lights.

Holi is one such festival celebrated during the harvesting season.

It is popularly called the Festival of Colours.

A few weeks ago, I felt a sudden attraction to a child-like pleasure: Colouring books. I just wanted one. I am terrible at drawing, and when I draw human feet my friends say they look like elephant's ears! I think that comparison just says it all. However, even as a child I loved colouring. The shades of leaves especially fascinated me and when I think back the words of my drawing teacher still echo in my ears as she would ask me to colour different shades but make sure one blends into the other and the transition is not obsolete.

All these memories made me want to buy a colouring book as soon as possible. I went looking for it, one book store to another, not sparing the road side stalls and vendors too!

I was disheartened to see the way the scene has changed. When I was little, I remember my mother used to buy me Jumbo Colouring Book, and that had now become expensive, the price going up two-fold. Looking for other options, I found a book with pictures of Doremon and Harry Potter and other children's favourites but unfortuantely there was a 20 year old who wanted a book with some sceneries- the typical picture of one house, one girl, one tree.

Finally, my friend who has a 6 year old cousin, tore pages from her book and bought me 60 of those! Thrilled as I was, I came back from college and brought out my box of Crayola and began right away! What bliss! Today, on the day of this colourful festival I sit and colour on my sheets and smile wide as I think of New Market from where my mother and I would buy these books and colours, of  weekly drawing classes , my Navneet drawing books and I smile the widest when I think of the shopkeeper who'd asked me ,"Madam, kitne saal ka bacha hai?" when I went to buy a colouring book for myself. Looking at my smile, he suggested, "6-7 saal?" and I smiled wider and just said, "Nahi thoda bada bacha hai!"