For the last 5 years weekends are those days of the week which i tried to avoid all the time. In padova though, weekends are very special, reasons are very personal, and probably you don't care for that. Anyway yesterday I thought I will study today, but after lunch I felt like playing with my guitar. So came back to my room and started some random strumming. Nothing new came. Then went through the earlier recorded songs, there are actually too many songs which are not comepleted yet. Some of them have only the first few lines, some of them dont have lyrics. So picked up two songs which I composed last month in this kind of random weekend strumming sessions. Then got bored and frustrated as I didn't have any lyrics. Then tried to read maths, but somehow there were few conversations came in my mind which made me really stiff and frustrated. Smoked a few ciggs which made me more frustrated and tired, played again some random chord, with anger. So I cut my finer. When I was sure that I can't come up with anything new and I should go for a long run, there it was. I got a new tune, good or bad I don't care, I want to thank the tree infront of my balcony which gave me company throughout my stay in padova. Its a two chord song, and mostly influenced by the great two hord songs of rahman "ynuhi chala chal" and " roobaro". Till now the lyrics is not fixed, but sure about the first line of the song. It should be " oh summer tui j amar". When I was recording the parts of the song i found it really great and sweet. But now, when i listen to it I find it not that great. anyway, it happens all the time, after finishing something I need a little detachment from that. The other two songs needed little bit more tuning and lyrics so fixed them too. One is a three chord tune, with G D and C and its more like punk rock the other one is three chord D. A .G , more like cold play style alternative rock. My previous works were mostly influenced by chandrabindoo and belafonte but as I ore listen radiohead and coldplay the more I get influenced. In flunece is not ba d as long as you are not publishing it. I dont believe in publications so I am safe , no one can blame me for plagiarism. These random guitar strumming sessiona reminds me of my days in Ramakrishna mission. Ayantik, dhanne and me one day decided that we will have band of our own. So dhanne said that he can play guitar and sitar, ayantik had nice voice , and had the duty to write the lyrics. The only problem was whol will give the music. My roommate was a great painter , he painted the cover of our first album which never released ( ha ha ha). The week the idea of the band was formed all of us had the duty to make a breakthrough by giving feedback for the first song. I was waiting for others to come up with some tune so that I can write the lyrics. Writing poem or lyrics was not a difficult thing for me, as I wrote hundreds of poems plays and stories. But I was musically challenged. Though I belong to a very very musical family, my grandfather was renowned poet and lyricist, all my cousin sisters are really well trained singer, my father and uncles can sing well, my borther has nice voice too. Every family occassion was a musical fest kind of a thing. Where people praised all the others for having such nice voices and fair skin. I am black (few nicknames given to me by my family members are "kalicharan" and "ghutghut (means darkness)", and for some odd reason I was never encouraged to learn music. Everyone (including my mother) assumed that I will become some sportsman or some engineer. So there was I , hating music and fairness. That's the reason why I never didn't care for composing music for the songs of our band. The week when everyone was busy to compose the music, I devoted my energy to sleep and aimless adda. But on the weekend when I went back to home. I thought about writing the lyrics first so that my friends can find it easy to compose the music. So started writing the lyrics, made many alternatives. Thet time I was with cactus and savage garden. So I thought I will try to fit the lyrics with the rhythm of the songs of cactus and savage garden. I spent the whole saturday helping my mother to do the laundry and coming up with different lines. I sat near the window and sang the lyrics in the tune of different songs. My mother usually thinks I am an insane pervert, so didn't pay any notice. I got a tune. Not completely original but yet a new tune. I never believed ( or never allwoed to believe that ) that I have music inside me. I was happy, as happy as the naked archimedes. I took the tape recorder and an old bhajan casette and recorded the whole thing. My mother asked me about what were I doing, I played the song, she didn't show any reaction . I was pissed off, and kept my casette inside the hidden treasure box thinking that even my friends will have the same emotion for this osng, so it is better to hide this thing from them to save myslef from being hurt. Two weeks passed, there were no progress from my friend side, they were desparate, one of them told me to try to find some tune for the song, so gave them the casette. Ayantik and dhanne liked it, others had the same kind of reaction that my mother showed. Ayantik also figures out the part which sounded like savage garden. I told him about my musical incapability. So thats how it started. I made 6 songs lyrics and tune both. Lyrics were good given my maturity of that time. Some of the tunes though really sucked. I mean if you have only one guitar , no percussion then some of the song will taste like saltless vegetarian dish. The album never released, dhanne was busy with his medical entrance, board exam, ayantik was believed to be spoiled by me and bunked the board exam ( I never saw his face after the boards exam), and I the alleged spoiler and the biggest gainer and the selfish and the .......... made my unique minimum effort way to survive all the other things and made myself elligible to enjoy the scholarship for euroepan holidays, sitting here, briefly living in the past. The name of our band was prabrishik ( which means fruit of rainy season), name of our unreleased first album was swapno nagari te jai ( lets go to the dream world). I named the band. And after that it became my email id, main charecter of one of my scripts. May be I was the only one who dreamt, little did i know that I will carry this dream with me and the work started from that dream will give me another mode of personal entertainment for me. After the band broke up ( we never had a breakthrough ) , I didn't stop composing . My father gifted me a guitar for my abysmal performance in the board exams. Jayant taught me a little about how to spend time with that thing. So I used these small knowledges and came up with few nice songs. Though the influence changed from cactus and anjan dutta to chandrabindoo and belafonte. In second year of CMI, I made the best song of my life. Yes I didn't allow any of my family memebers to know about the song. I sang it for laal, he liked it. He has great voice, and he is totally untrained. Whenever we meet he sings this song , the song is called ai raat ( this night). There are some influences of the antara of pehal nasha, but anyway as I told I am not interested in publishing them. I bought a cheap software to record the tunes in my comp, that way I can remember the tunes which randomly comes without lyrics and patch them together with lyrics to get a new song for me. Telling this things to people has a negative effect also, they will say that I am talented but I am wasting my time and potential. Well, neither I am talented, nor I am intelligent. I dont belive in them, so I am not wasting anything. My way of living life is different. I don't leave anything, I dont have goal either. I just play with everything, take a thought and observe it from different places , in different emotions and then patch them up to get some personal entertainment. The word closesly describing this can be personal philosophical cubism. All the decisions I have taken in my life has some emotions attached to it which i dont bother to describe to anyone, and I stand by those decisions. My work is appreciated by my brother ( who loves everything I do) , some of my close friends, some of the human beings I love. For others I dont want to exist. Someday like everyone I will also disappear but not to go to some other place in this world but to leave this chhote logoki duniya. Till then I will enjoy everything. As I have said
"Ticket leke aya hu, pura film dekhke jawunga".
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Achudya !
There are people who solve problems, there are people who make them, and then there are people who create ideas. One of them is Saurabh bhaiya. This idea achudya is created by him. It means those things which can not be fucked. If you ask him for example, he will give my name. It is correct or not is your duty find out, but the idea of creating this category of achudya is a pathbreaking one.
It is better sometime if you make a habit of not sleeping for a long time. What is the effect of that on my health, is not my concern. Health is the last thing that comes in my mind. What you can do is make your week a three or three and half day week or make your month a fifteen day month. For few months try this thing. It is not necessary to work hard, actually it is better if you don't work but still stay awake for 48 hours. That is a real test of charecter. It will really test how much stable you are. To make thing a litlle bit interesting, you can smoke a lot or eat once in a day. So you are physically weak, your brain needs some fresh blood, your stomach needs food, but still you are forcing yourself to stay awake without doing any real work.
It is better sometime if you make a habit of not sleeping for a long time. What is the effect of that on my health, is not my concern. Health is the last thing that comes in my mind. What you can do is make your week a three or three and half day week or make your month a fifteen day month. For few months try this thing. It is not necessary to work hard, actually it is better if you don't work but still stay awake for 48 hours. That is a real test of charecter. It will really test how much stable you are. To make thing a litlle bit interesting, you can smoke a lot or eat once in a day. So you are physically weak, your brain needs some fresh blood, your stomach needs food, but still you are forcing yourself to stay awake without doing any real work.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Few things about paad in paadova which people know or which they should know
Today paad comes back again. Some of my friends always complained that my thoughts are very vulgar and there is nothing great in being vulgar. But what can I do, when I have the pen (in this case the french keyboard), I have the great "responsibility" to be very honest about what I think, specially the vulgar ones. There is nothing great in vulgarity, I accept, but if everyone is a superhero then who will be the common man ? I am this common man (or utuman).
Anyway , i do yoga everyday , specially my favourite two yogas. Sabashan and paban muktashan. Both are very important and practised by almost all the living forms available in this world. So in some sense it is very very universal, one of the greatest gifts of God. So how can I not think about this. Paad are generally of two types, or more precisely they are union of two sets, with possibly empty intersection. Why possibly ? Well , from a great result of some great sage :
"byom paade gondho naade, bhoos paade pran kande", it follows that paad are of two types , byom and bhoos., with empty intersection. But as Dr Pranav told me that there were cases where even byom paad had the perfume of bhoos paad. This is a recent unpublished result. Paad is natural event which can happen even without any reasons. Each second there are millions of people paading, bhoos or byom paad. Even while you are reading this post someone (if not you) very near to you may be enjoying this bliss called paad.
There are lots of poems written on Paad , one of my favourite is the one which my mother taught me once upon a time:
Paade Padonti,
Shnoke bhaggobonti,
je na paader mormo jaane
Saat somudro paar kore bajna aane.
Paad is treated really badly in our society. It doesn't have the kind of status which it deserve. Emerging economies can use the energy in Paad to solve their enerygy related problem. Countries like Bangladesh can use human rockets (following the usual conservation of momentum) and make themself as strong as USA. Or we can use Paad as natural gas, we can get free flavors . Like one day you eat some good chicken vindaloo, next with the stored paad you cook, and the food will have the flavor of chicken vindaloo.
There are few people whose paad are very famous, I am not one of them. I can produce tobacco flavor paad sometime, but thats it.
Elliptic curves are not related to paad, and today we ( including paranav) solved the problems of elliptic curve exam.
Let me remind you again, there is nothing great in vulgarity. Leave this area for me. This is the thing I can do better than anyone.
Anyway , i do yoga everyday , specially my favourite two yogas. Sabashan and paban muktashan. Both are very important and practised by almost all the living forms available in this world. So in some sense it is very very universal, one of the greatest gifts of God. So how can I not think about this. Paad are generally of two types, or more precisely they are union of two sets, with possibly empty intersection. Why possibly ? Well , from a great result of some great sage :
"byom paade gondho naade, bhoos paade pran kande", it follows that paad are of two types , byom and bhoos., with empty intersection. But as Dr Pranav told me that there were cases where even byom paad had the perfume of bhoos paad. This is a recent unpublished result. Paad is natural event which can happen even without any reasons. Each second there are millions of people paading, bhoos or byom paad. Even while you are reading this post someone (if not you) very near to you may be enjoying this bliss called paad.
There are lots of poems written on Paad , one of my favourite is the one which my mother taught me once upon a time:
Paade Padonti,
Shnoke bhaggobonti,
je na paader mormo jaane
Saat somudro paar kore bajna aane.
Paad is treated really badly in our society. It doesn't have the kind of status which it deserve. Emerging economies can use the energy in Paad to solve their enerygy related problem. Countries like Bangladesh can use human rockets (following the usual conservation of momentum) and make themself as strong as USA. Or we can use Paad as natural gas, we can get free flavors . Like one day you eat some good chicken vindaloo, next with the stored paad you cook, and the food will have the flavor of chicken vindaloo.
There are few people whose paad are very famous, I am not one of them. I can produce tobacco flavor paad sometime, but thats it.
Elliptic curves are not related to paad, and today we ( including paranav) solved the problems of elliptic curve exam.
Let me remind you again, there is nothing great in vulgarity. Leave this area for me. This is the thing I can do better than anyone.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Elliptic curves goes to school
Hot and humid, this is the weather when I live. Maths lectures are really boring, specially for the lecturere, when they have students like me sitting in class, yawning and drawing cartoons . Very son I will be there , otherside of the fence, and I have an idea of how to make maths lectures enjoyable for the lecturer himself. Today I attended one lecture. One prof from taiwan was giving the lecture. He brought his wife and his daughter with him. So the lecture was going as any other maths lecture. The prof looked like a robot. Then once in a while his daughter started saying something , the poor kid was bored, i guess, with the dead lecture hall and the dead participant of this heartless process of mathematical lectures. The lecturer turned around and he started smiling. That smile was probably the best smile I have ever seen from a lecturer. I guess he was not this happy in any maths department in his life. I will also bring my kid in my maths lectures , I am sure today. After the lecture he ran towards her daughter. The affection, for the first time gave a bright color to the maths lecture hall. Kid are not that bad afterall.
Today is elliptic curves day. We (by including Pranav) studied elliptic curves from afternoon. Then afternoon lecture was also related to elliptic curves. There is a Japanese prof, Shiga, (who plays piano too) who took the elliptic curve course last month. We saw him thrice (thrice is indian english and i use it all the time) today. If we study a little more about elliptic curves then probably Shiga will come to our room.
Saurabh bhaiya is fully charged up, he will probably do some great work in his phd if not in his masters. He said he will show to haramjadletto everything (assuming that haramjadaletto is not an offside batsman). I don't know how is everyone ? I feel like calling everyone now.
Today is elliptic curves day. We (by including Pranav) studied elliptic curves from afternoon. Then afternoon lecture was also related to elliptic curves. There is a Japanese prof, Shiga, (who plays piano too) who took the elliptic curve course last month. We saw him thrice (thrice is indian english and i use it all the time) today. If we study a little more about elliptic curves then probably Shiga will come to our room.
Saurabh bhaiya is fully charged up, he will probably do some great work in his phd if not in his masters. He said he will show to haramjadletto everything (assuming that haramjadaletto is not an offside batsman). I don't know how is everyone ? I feel like calling everyone now.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
long long day, go away
I am going to finish the longest day of my life, it lasted for almost 36 hours. It was big wastage of time , energy and wealth. Well as you know from the last blog that I bought two packs of ciagrette last night and a pack of condom, morning I bought 1 pack. So 12 euros for cigarette in one day . Chhi, chhi, dhikkar hai tumpe. Then prepared the lecture notes for todays lecture and met my superviser, who told me to talk about some other topic today afternoon. I just had 2 hours, I did some chutiyapa to costruct all the things of that topic. That jackass always pushes me to the extreme limit. As I was searching for the infos for the rescheduled topic of my lecture in the backyard of the maths building , I found two old poems scribbled somewhere on my notebook. I didn't have the idea that I wrote them. Then I discovered few other scribbled here and there in my notebook. I remember that I developed this habit of scribbling poems on my mathsnote book from CMI. I used to attend lectures properly there. After lunch lectures used to be very boring and that time I was the only one reading them once in a while and changing the structures. All this thoughts came in my mind when I was preparing my lecture notes. Oh, again I felt that examination pressure kind of thing. It is so bad, it kills me. So I was lost in my memories for the rest of the time. When i started lecturing, I didn't feel that there were anyone in the room. I don't even remember what I said. When I was halfway through my lecture one song came in my mind. It was one night in bappas room in kolkata. I was back after the ENS research project drama, preparing to go back to paris again. I wanted to enjoy the summer with my friends as much as possible. So most of the nights I used to sleep in bappas place or joydebs place. We did many things that summer , went to a jyotishi threegether, went to watch the most famous supu dar band nitroengine in art college, attended the camps of breathrough science society in calm villages, went for long run in the morning, smoked like never before, went to many college fests , specially those with fossils.
Anyway that was the time when I saw this ganjawala in my locality. His name is Topa. The great Topa was Naxal in his time, then police picked him , gave him 3 rd fourth fifth degree, he lost his one arm and one leg, his wife ran away with someone else, as a award for dedicated social work he didn't get any job, though he was educated. So he started selling ganja. The whole story is still unknown, this is the bits and pieces which one can extract once in a while from Topa babajibon after lot of maska marowing. I felt nice in his company, I liked his attitude towards life. As if he is vefy angry with eveyone and doesn't want to identify himself with that dirty society. So the whole prelude was for this one song, what a wastage of netspace. One night, it was hot and very humid, bappas parents were sleeping in the other room. We were there, three of us, Laal Bappa and me. I was really pissed off that day, that night I had to stay with my friends just to be alive. We had some joint, Laal was telling us a story of a friend who once smoked ganja in bong and kept his forehead over the bong and burned his forehead. When he ended this story I started singing, the song was: kopalpora , ganja khete khete kopal pora, in R & B style. It went on for ages, then there was the fire of the fag on my stomach, it was burning my stomach, but I didn't have any sensation, I just kept singing for ages. Everyone in the room laughed for hours and that incident became one of the major entertainment for the future. I am really sure that even the kids of Bappa and Laal will one day pull my leg for that incident.
Now comes the two poems. I can't translate them
1.
Amar snajh shokale ki j chai ?
bhulei jai, tomar gondho ?
pratohrashe .. komorbondho ..chepe, monkharap
dhakboi, tobu shorir bhole na
tomar gondho ? sporsho korle shedin jai
amio nyada, thanda lagai mogoje.
thanda kori gorom khun, katay melai tatar noon,
sulfuric acid.
bhalobashar bashi kotha, purushpurush bhab,
tomar sporsher obhab r
kamonake marbo aaji darshonik tyotte,
ai prodhan shorte raji holey-e, bneche thakar
shukhe thakar,
niyom mene jibon japon
apon bapon hostothapon
apon bapon hostothapon.
2.
Shesh cheshta, shesh smritituku thak,
smriti howe jak
amar golpo.
ekpare smriti dake ay ay,
jibone lagai nerolac,
kimba gobor diye nikoi uthon.
roj robbar machh ashbe polybag-a,
rod jagbe bichhanay pash fire, ghader upor
alto kamde.
janlar chokh khule chokchoke rod,
smritir badami gale debe close up chumu.
thnot ta shudhu amar,
batil amar saat shagor r tero nodir paar,
batil shob juddher bajar.
jai morete ekdin shai smriti eshe chhulo haat,
shai mortar, shai smritituku thak.
Anyway that was the time when I saw this ganjawala in my locality. His name is Topa. The great Topa was Naxal in his time, then police picked him , gave him 3 rd fourth fifth degree, he lost his one arm and one leg, his wife ran away with someone else, as a award for dedicated social work he didn't get any job, though he was educated. So he started selling ganja. The whole story is still unknown, this is the bits and pieces which one can extract once in a while from Topa babajibon after lot of maska marowing. I felt nice in his company, I liked his attitude towards life. As if he is vefy angry with eveyone and doesn't want to identify himself with that dirty society. So the whole prelude was for this one song, what a wastage of netspace. One night, it was hot and very humid, bappas parents were sleeping in the other room. We were there, three of us, Laal Bappa and me. I was really pissed off that day, that night I had to stay with my friends just to be alive. We had some joint, Laal was telling us a story of a friend who once smoked ganja in bong and kept his forehead over the bong and burned his forehead. When he ended this story I started singing, the song was: kopalpora , ganja khete khete kopal pora, in R & B style. It went on for ages, then there was the fire of the fag on my stomach, it was burning my stomach, but I didn't have any sensation, I just kept singing for ages. Everyone in the room laughed for hours and that incident became one of the major entertainment for the future. I am really sure that even the kids of Bappa and Laal will one day pull my leg for that incident.
Now comes the two poems. I can't translate them
1.
Amar snajh shokale ki j chai ?
bhulei jai, tomar gondho ?
pratohrashe .. komorbondho ..chepe, monkharap
dhakboi, tobu shorir bhole na
tomar gondho ? sporsho korle shedin jai
amio nyada, thanda lagai mogoje.
thanda kori gorom khun, katay melai tatar noon,
sulfuric acid.
bhalobashar bashi kotha, purushpurush bhab,
tomar sporsher obhab r
kamonake marbo aaji darshonik tyotte,
ai prodhan shorte raji holey-e, bneche thakar
shukhe thakar,
niyom mene jibon japon
apon bapon hostothapon
apon bapon hostothapon.
2.
Shesh cheshta, shesh smritituku thak,
smriti howe jak
amar golpo.
ekpare smriti dake ay ay,
jibone lagai nerolac,
kimba gobor diye nikoi uthon.
roj robbar machh ashbe polybag-a,
rod jagbe bichhanay pash fire, ghader upor
alto kamde.
janlar chokh khule chokchoke rod,
smritir badami gale debe close up chumu.
thnot ta shudhu amar,
batil amar saat shagor r tero nodir paar,
batil shob juddher bajar.
jai morete ekdin shai smriti eshe chhulo haat,
shai mortar, shai smritituku thak.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Lucky Strike , It's Toasted
I feel like a zombie now. Tried to sleep , but didn't get any. My body and brain is dead tired but somehow it doesn't want rest. Today will be the first talk on projective line minus three points. Rarely I have given a good talk in my life. I always assume those things which I know, as universally known, those thing that makes me interested, as universally interesting. So I screw up often. As this is the compression of a 200 page highly dense paper, I guess there is a real chance that I will bore everyone again. Anyway, it doesn't matter, in this great scheme of objects and incidence if I understand certain things properly then it is good enough.
Last night I went to buy cigarette from the vending machine. It is a bit far from my residence, and the area is really superb. You can find drug dealers selling drugs, police trying to catch homeless people and prostitutes selling their body, if you are lucky like me you can find some old gay trying to seduce you. Anyway I went their, put a 20 euro note inside, pressed the button for marlboro and waited, nothing happened. So I pressed all the buttons. After sometime a packet of condom came out, then a packet of Lucky Strike, some weird cigarette, and then marlboro. I put all the things on my pocket and headed back towards my room. Then I thought , if police catches me now, and finds all those things in my pocket, then what will be a good story connecting all these three things. I thought that I will tell them that its my girlfriends 24 th birthday, so 12 marlboro my brand 12 lucky strilke her brand, we will make cake and put this cigarettes on it. And the condoms will be used as ballons. Well I thought this was funny. But now, as I write it , I find it really boring.
Anyway jiske khudke ghar shishe ke ho woh nanga hoke kapda change nehi kiya karte.
Good morning.
Last night I went to buy cigarette from the vending machine. It is a bit far from my residence, and the area is really superb. You can find drug dealers selling drugs, police trying to catch homeless people and prostitutes selling their body, if you are lucky like me you can find some old gay trying to seduce you. Anyway I went their, put a 20 euro note inside, pressed the button for marlboro and waited, nothing happened. So I pressed all the buttons. After sometime a packet of condom came out, then a packet of Lucky Strike, some weird cigarette, and then marlboro. I put all the things on my pocket and headed back towards my room. Then I thought , if police catches me now, and finds all those things in my pocket, then what will be a good story connecting all these three things. I thought that I will tell them that its my girlfriends 24 th birthday, so 12 marlboro my brand 12 lucky strilke her brand, we will make cake and put this cigarettes on it. And the condoms will be used as ballons. Well I thought this was funny. But now, as I write it , I find it really boring.
Anyway jiske khudke ghar shishe ke ho woh nanga hoke kapda change nehi kiya karte.
Good morning.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
two dreams
Today so far has been awesome. I got up early, 9-30 is very early for me. Then didn't check my mails or didn't check times of india. Directly went to Ananth bhais home. ate alot, really a lot. Some great dosas ( probably it was not dosa), vegetable curry , daal (awesome), good chicken (little bit salty). My stomach was never stretched before this much. So had to take a small nap in his place. I saw their marriage photos. Felt like going back to India today. Then came back, it was hot, little bit humid, so walking was really great. Then I slept again. What a great time. Don't know how much I slept but it was the deepest sleep I have had for last few years. First let me thank Charles Bukowski for giving a god start for my day , I just read few pages of his book this morning when I was shitting. Apart from the "Chak de" poster in my shitroom, this also helped me to have a mindblowing shit : It goes like this
" What's wrong with assholes, baby ? you have got an asshole, i have got an asshole ! you go to the store and buy a porterhouse steak, that had an asshole ! assholes cover the earth ! in a way trees have assholes but you can't find them, they just drop their leaves . your asshole , my asshole, the world is full of billions of assholes. The president has an asshole, the car wash boy has an asshole, the judge and the murderer have assholes........"
Now lets revisit my dreams. I dont know how will you find these two dreams, but i really loved them. Even now, when i can only recollect very few parts of it, i love it. I have a good dream machine behind my eyelids. I have even seen pre released version of one hollywood movie (with simple modifications) once. That was dawn of the deads ( or resident evil). This time no piracy. This two dreams are really original.
First one, as usual is a very soft and bright one. I don't know how it started, just remember bits and pieces from here and there. There was play in that dream. Lots of people came to watch that play, even I saw myslef for the first time in any of my good dreams. Though I was not inside the hall, I was searching for cigarettes very badly. Anyway, the stage was reasonably dark with patches of lights here and there. There were few people standing there, making a shape of two intersecting lines whose opening part was towards the audience. There was a disturbing chutiya in the audience, cant remember his face , but he was talking too much. Anyway all the people on the stage were standing as if they were hanging from a pin. On the left side of the stage, there were three people , standng together to make a box like shape with top and one side open. You can see the face of two of them, but not the person standing on the back. There was a guy, still like an animal, on his four legs. he was on the right side of that human box, he was facing the audience, then there was guy sitting like chair just behind the four legged guy, facing the audience. on the left side of this there were three guys just standing facing the audience. Anyway , there was sound of some keys, and the play starts, as a girl entered the stage . She came from the back side of one of the guys on the left, that guy moved like a door and the girl moved that guy after entering the room as if she is closing the door. That guy made thud like sound to confirm that he is door. All the guys on the stage has a name, I dont remember all of the names, just one. The guy on the back of the human box was bakaruddin. Anyway she entered , and all the guys in the room bent towards her, as if trying to bow but not flexible enough to go all the way. The whole set looked like Ray Richardsons hang on to the world, the only difference is everything was bending outwards in hand on to the world but in this case everything is bending towards her. Anyway she said sorry to the door for slamming it little bit hard, the door replied something which i dont remember. It was clear that she came back from some tiring job. After some time it was clear what was all those guys doing there. There was this main entrance door, then the guy on his four was a table, the guy stting like a chair was a chair. The human box was a cupboard, the guy standing between the door and the table was telephone and the leftmost guy was the door of bathroom. The play was funny for most of the time, everyone was laughing. There were many funny comments (which i dont remember) made by the toilet door , the table . The lid of the cupboard was opening by itself once in while , to scare her. That portion looked funny that time. But somehow there was a thin shade of sadness, created by the lights . The backside of the cupboard talked a lot, most of the time nonsense. Then there was postman who came in through the door with a guy . The guy had his head covered. And she removed the cover of his head. The guy was letter or something like that. And he started reading himself. She was litlle bt sad after that. Then she went to bathroom. She came out, everyne on the stage started whitsling. The backside of the cupboard said that he is the most unlucky person in this world, as he can not see her and face the wall all his life and show his sadness by creating a dampness on the wall. This part was little bit clear but as i write this i forget many things rapidly. Then there was phone call, she talked with someone , the telephone guy spoke in women voice. She was very happy. She started packing things and during this time all the guys were singing dancing, telling stories to her to stop her from going away from them. Every attempt was failure, then the backside of the cupboard came up with the idea that if something breaks in this room she had to fix the thing and only then she can leave. This will make her stay a little more. So the backside of the cupboard broke himself. Then there was all this drama going on, all this guys trying to convince her that she has to stay a little more to fix the cupboard, she argued for a long time, but she was determined to go. So after some incidences of failed prayers ( dont remember this part now) she convinced everyone that this is going to be the last night of her in this room, after that she had to go somewhere. Everyne understood, she went to bed , everyone started singing lullaby. The play ended.
The second dream i really dont remember properly now, i have to think hard to recollect it. Hence for the time being be happy with this one only. The copyright of this play belongs to me. There are few influences though . The lights and structre of the stage is probably the influnece of Ray Richardson. The first thing I see every morning is his hang on to the world. The idea of human props completely belongs to my dream, though the naming of the objects is most probably the influence of Smruti.
" What's wrong with assholes, baby ? you have got an asshole, i have got an asshole ! you go to the store and buy a porterhouse steak, that had an asshole ! assholes cover the earth ! in a way trees have assholes but you can't find them, they just drop their leaves . your asshole , my asshole, the world is full of billions of assholes. The president has an asshole, the car wash boy has an asshole, the judge and the murderer have assholes........"
Now lets revisit my dreams. I dont know how will you find these two dreams, but i really loved them. Even now, when i can only recollect very few parts of it, i love it. I have a good dream machine behind my eyelids. I have even seen pre released version of one hollywood movie (with simple modifications) once. That was dawn of the deads ( or resident evil). This time no piracy. This two dreams are really original.
First one, as usual is a very soft and bright one. I don't know how it started, just remember bits and pieces from here and there. There was play in that dream. Lots of people came to watch that play, even I saw myslef for the first time in any of my good dreams. Though I was not inside the hall, I was searching for cigarettes very badly. Anyway, the stage was reasonably dark with patches of lights here and there. There were few people standing there, making a shape of two intersecting lines whose opening part was towards the audience. There was a disturbing chutiya in the audience, cant remember his face , but he was talking too much. Anyway all the people on the stage were standing as if they were hanging from a pin. On the left side of the stage, there were three people , standng together to make a box like shape with top and one side open. You can see the face of two of them, but not the person standing on the back. There was a guy, still like an animal, on his four legs. he was on the right side of that human box, he was facing the audience, then there was guy sitting like chair just behind the four legged guy, facing the audience. on the left side of this there were three guys just standing facing the audience. Anyway , there was sound of some keys, and the play starts, as a girl entered the stage . She came from the back side of one of the guys on the left, that guy moved like a door and the girl moved that guy after entering the room as if she is closing the door. That guy made thud like sound to confirm that he is door. All the guys on the stage has a name, I dont remember all of the names, just one. The guy on the back of the human box was bakaruddin. Anyway she entered , and all the guys in the room bent towards her, as if trying to bow but not flexible enough to go all the way. The whole set looked like Ray Richardsons hang on to the world, the only difference is everything was bending outwards in hand on to the world but in this case everything is bending towards her. Anyway she said sorry to the door for slamming it little bit hard, the door replied something which i dont remember. It was clear that she came back from some tiring job. After some time it was clear what was all those guys doing there. There was this main entrance door, then the guy on his four was a table, the guy stting like a chair was a chair. The human box was a cupboard, the guy standing between the door and the table was telephone and the leftmost guy was the door of bathroom. The play was funny for most of the time, everyone was laughing. There were many funny comments (which i dont remember) made by the toilet door , the table . The lid of the cupboard was opening by itself once in while , to scare her. That portion looked funny that time. But somehow there was a thin shade of sadness, created by the lights . The backside of the cupboard talked a lot, most of the time nonsense. Then there was postman who came in through the door with a guy . The guy had his head covered. And she removed the cover of his head. The guy was letter or something like that. And he started reading himself. She was litlle bt sad after that. Then she went to bathroom. She came out, everyne on the stage started whitsling. The backside of the cupboard said that he is the most unlucky person in this world, as he can not see her and face the wall all his life and show his sadness by creating a dampness on the wall. This part was little bit clear but as i write this i forget many things rapidly. Then there was phone call, she talked with someone , the telephone guy spoke in women voice. She was very happy. She started packing things and during this time all the guys were singing dancing, telling stories to her to stop her from going away from them. Every attempt was failure, then the backside of the cupboard came up with the idea that if something breaks in this room she had to fix the thing and only then she can leave. This will make her stay a little more. So the backside of the cupboard broke himself. Then there was all this drama going on, all this guys trying to convince her that she has to stay a little more to fix the cupboard, she argued for a long time, but she was determined to go. So after some incidences of failed prayers ( dont remember this part now) she convinced everyone that this is going to be the last night of her in this room, after that she had to go somewhere. Everyne understood, she went to bed , everyone started singing lullaby. The play ended.
The second dream i really dont remember properly now, i have to think hard to recollect it. Hence for the time being be happy with this one only. The copyright of this play belongs to me. There are few influences though . The lights and structre of the stage is probably the influnece of Ray Richardson. The first thing I see every morning is his hang on to the world. The idea of human props completely belongs to my dream, though the naming of the objects is most probably the influence of Smruti.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Silence
It is a really bad end of a good week. Nothing new learned, nothing new loved. My problem is I talk too much, and I listen to everyone. So when I am happy about whatever shit is happening in my life , there will be people pointing at me the worthlessness of my life. Yes, I grew up knowing how I made a huge waste of my life and potential. Lately I was tagged as a lazy guy, someone questioned my dedication, someone questioned my honesty. Everyone assumed what they wanted to assume, everyone did what they wanted to do. I will not say anything. Let the life be happy with all its shortcomings, let the life be happy without telling her story to this world, let the world be happy with silence.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Crystalline cohomology and Spider Man 2
So far so good. Each day if I understand few statements properly then I am happy. Todays gain, crystalline cohomology. There is an exposition sort of article by Luc Illusie, one of the bourbakis (or burbak), on this really interesting cohomology theory. The main theory was thought by Grothendieck and developed by P. Berthelot (whose name of adviser is unknown as far as mathematics genealogy project is concerned ). There is a nice letter of Grothendieck to J .Tate (the starting looked really gayish to me , "cher"), describing his idea of crystals and rigidity properties of this new cohomology theory.
The main idea is the following , in char 0 , we can see that d(x^p) = p.x^(p-1)dx. But in char p we get d(x^p) = 0. So on one hand we can integrate p.a^(p-1) and get back x^p in char 0,but that is not true for char p. The problem is precisely in char p we can not integrate x^(p-1) which in principle should happen to show the de rham complex is exact (remember the classical poincare lemma !). But we need to know some sort of de rham cohomology for the case of char p, since in most of the cases this turns out to be the strongest cohomology theory we ever had, as it has good properties of all the other cohomologies plus it has a mixed hodge structure (which roughly means that you cut the cohomology groups in each dimension and concentrate on something really nice). What can be a better way out ? One thing can be that given a variety X char p and f : X -> Y proper map where Y is smooth over some good ring ( in this case ring of witt vectors) we can get some cohomology theory which conincides with the de rham cohomology of Y, but then there should be some uniqueness propety related to this cohomology theory ( that is the cohomology groups are independent of the map f). So firstly we need to fix the problem of integration. Here comes Grothendiecks simple but really special observation. In char 0 , observer that if f_n(x) = x^n / n ! , then integration of f_n gives f_(n+1) and differentiation of f_(n+1) gives f_n, so bingo , this is the property which presicely gives what we need. In classical case we don't integrate over whole surface , but over some closed set, so in this case we have to get the idea of integration on some closed set. Closed sets comes from some ideal, so we have to get some ideals where we can define fuctions like f_n. Now we take the ring W(k). Why ? Well this is the special and simplest example of rings (where char k = p and k is perfect) which has an ideal where we can integrate canonically (this witt vectors has many great properties, check them out). If $k$^is $F_p$ then we have W(k) as the ring of p-adic integers. So roughly speaking what we do is for any variety X, we take all the sheaf of ideals where we can integrate, we can take all these ideals and take the schemes defined by it, this forms a Site, we can take the structure sheaf associated to this ideals, and define a sheaf on this site and calculate the cohomology. Yes for most of our cases this cohomology theory is "The theory" we were looking for. Moral of the story, ideas are always simple, and it doesnt take a genius to uncover it. You have to make your question clear ans most often the answer will be the direct consequence of the question, or if i rephrase it, if your question is really clear, then as Saurabh bhaiya says a simple Bihari arguement (Q :why ?, A : Why not.) will give you the answer.
Spider Man 2 is shit. I watched it again. Even after the second attempt I can not like it. I liked the first part, no the action scenes are not breathtaking in any of the spider man movie, but Peter Parker, not the spider man which is more lovable in this whole series. First of all, spider man is the most popular superhero till date, if its not true may lightning strike me. Reasons are very simple, he is not from any other planet, he does not want revenge or anything, his fights and weapons are simple, he can not fly, and in real life he is a simple young man, who, given an option, will always love to live an unknown life of a simple man, he falls in love, he falls from rooftop, he runs away from his flat owner, runs away from everything to find out that there are no way outs. Somehow it reminds me one of my favourite poem by Joy Goswami called Meghnad. Pardon me for the english translation, but the first few lines goes as follows
No one is fighting behind the clouds, all nonsense,
No one is winning Indra, nonsense,
everyone is grazing, chin down, in kolkata,
all ratnakar is roaming around to feed their family.
In the middle of this you can find few weak balmikis,
didn't have the courage to fight in daylight ,
there are no lights around the head of the brave,
see, there goes meghnad, hanging from the bus, Gautam Haldar.
On stage, he is a different person,
different charisma,
but everyday hanging from the bus, but every day coming back from the office,
stampling , sitting, getting up, satisfying boss,
dont we fight this stubborn war every day on the cloud top ?
Anyway Joy Goswami had his unique way of creating layer of motifs linguistically, and as english is a foreign language for me, I can not do justice to that in english. So Peter Parker is somehow this kind of a person, may be spider man is not true even in the story. May be all the things are his dream, what he want to do, how he wants to protest ? When he talks with the doctor about his dream problem i just thought may be this is the dream of all the common men. We want to be superheroes, not for only popularity but to protest against what we dont like, but we are weak, we want a normal life to. Reality and dream gets separated by our eyelid. Just a thin skin dividng two contrasting yet related world. We love our normal life, the people associated with it, so in real life we just compromise for some stability, not for us, but for all the people who define our existence. We fight with our dream of becoming a superhuman, we fight our urge to protest just to protect our near and dear ones from any trouble. So after a day full of fighting with our natural instincts, swallowing plethora of insults we give a good night kiss to our near ones, and close our eye lids, draped in our night dress and blankets, we roam around all over the world, alone, to do the job of a superhero.
As joy goswami said
"Meghnad is not alone, don't you, or that guy or me
every day fight an unequal war to find food ?
No laxman has born to kill us."
Before ending this tale of superheroes, I want to tell you an incidence in Paris. It was like every other midnight in Paris. I was as usual drunk, hungry and watching outside the trees that looked barely alive. I thought what if tonight I become a superhero like spider man or something ( i have a superhero name too, UTUMAN), and jump around . Watch all the windows and balconies of this old dead city, all the people standing their. Some of them sad, some of them trying to be happy, but everyone alone. I wrote a poem. I find this as one of the best poems I have ever written. So it is for you now
Sohortar naam hote parto everest :
ordhek thutur moto j alo chnader mukh theke berochchhe,
tate unchu unchu shikhor gulo besh bhije bhije lagchhe,
chokhe him-o pore thakte pare.
adorer time bomb fatbe ki fatbe na tar opekkhay oneke niche boshe agun shamlachchhe.
onek upor gulote hawa eshe gaye perek thukchhe
keu keu, eka eka balconytey nijer ekakityo key joy korchhe.
sohorta besh purono diner notun kotha bole
sohortar naam hote parto everest.
The main idea is the following , in char 0 , we can see that d(x^p) = p.x^(p-1)dx. But in char p we get d(x^p) = 0. So on one hand we can integrate p.a^(p-1) and get back x^p in char 0,but that is not true for char p. The problem is precisely in char p we can not integrate x^(p-1) which in principle should happen to show the de rham complex is exact (remember the classical poincare lemma !). But we need to know some sort of de rham cohomology for the case of char p, since in most of the cases this turns out to be the strongest cohomology theory we ever had, as it has good properties of all the other cohomologies plus it has a mixed hodge structure (which roughly means that you cut the cohomology groups in each dimension and concentrate on something really nice). What can be a better way out ? One thing can be that given a variety X char p and f : X -> Y proper map where Y is smooth over some good ring ( in this case ring of witt vectors) we can get some cohomology theory which conincides with the de rham cohomology of Y, but then there should be some uniqueness propety related to this cohomology theory ( that is the cohomology groups are independent of the map f). So firstly we need to fix the problem of integration. Here comes Grothendiecks simple but really special observation. In char 0 , observer that if f_n(x) = x^n / n ! , then integration of f_n gives f_(n+1) and differentiation of f_(n+1) gives f_n, so bingo , this is the property which presicely gives what we need. In classical case we don't integrate over whole surface , but over some closed set, so in this case we have to get the idea of integration on some closed set. Closed sets comes from some ideal, so we have to get some ideals where we can define fuctions like f_n. Now we take the ring W(k). Why ? Well this is the special and simplest example of rings (where char k = p and k is perfect) which has an ideal where we can integrate canonically (this witt vectors has many great properties, check them out). If $k$^is $F_p$ then we have W(k) as the ring of p-adic integers. So roughly speaking what we do is for any variety X, we take all the sheaf of ideals where we can integrate, we can take all these ideals and take the schemes defined by it, this forms a Site, we can take the structure sheaf associated to this ideals, and define a sheaf on this site and calculate the cohomology. Yes for most of our cases this cohomology theory is "The theory" we were looking for. Moral of the story, ideas are always simple, and it doesnt take a genius to uncover it. You have to make your question clear ans most often the answer will be the direct consequence of the question, or if i rephrase it, if your question is really clear, then as Saurabh bhaiya says a simple Bihari arguement (Q :why ?, A : Why not.) will give you the answer.
Spider Man 2 is shit. I watched it again. Even after the second attempt I can not like it. I liked the first part, no the action scenes are not breathtaking in any of the spider man movie, but Peter Parker, not the spider man which is more lovable in this whole series. First of all, spider man is the most popular superhero till date, if its not true may lightning strike me. Reasons are very simple, he is not from any other planet, he does not want revenge or anything, his fights and weapons are simple, he can not fly, and in real life he is a simple young man, who, given an option, will always love to live an unknown life of a simple man, he falls in love, he falls from rooftop, he runs away from his flat owner, runs away from everything to find out that there are no way outs. Somehow it reminds me one of my favourite poem by Joy Goswami called Meghnad. Pardon me for the english translation, but the first few lines goes as follows
No one is fighting behind the clouds, all nonsense,
No one is winning Indra, nonsense,
everyone is grazing, chin down, in kolkata,
all ratnakar is roaming around to feed their family.
In the middle of this you can find few weak balmikis,
didn't have the courage to fight in daylight ,
there are no lights around the head of the brave,
see, there goes meghnad, hanging from the bus, Gautam Haldar.
On stage, he is a different person,
different charisma,
but everyday hanging from the bus, but every day coming back from the office,
stampling , sitting, getting up, satisfying boss,
dont we fight this stubborn war every day on the cloud top ?
Anyway Joy Goswami had his unique way of creating layer of motifs linguistically, and as english is a foreign language for me, I can not do justice to that in english. So Peter Parker is somehow this kind of a person, may be spider man is not true even in the story. May be all the things are his dream, what he want to do, how he wants to protest ? When he talks with the doctor about his dream problem i just thought may be this is the dream of all the common men. We want to be superheroes, not for only popularity but to protest against what we dont like, but we are weak, we want a normal life to. Reality and dream gets separated by our eyelid. Just a thin skin dividng two contrasting yet related world. We love our normal life, the people associated with it, so in real life we just compromise for some stability, not for us, but for all the people who define our existence. We fight with our dream of becoming a superhuman, we fight our urge to protest just to protect our near and dear ones from any trouble. So after a day full of fighting with our natural instincts, swallowing plethora of insults we give a good night kiss to our near ones, and close our eye lids, draped in our night dress and blankets, we roam around all over the world, alone, to do the job of a superhero.
As joy goswami said
"Meghnad is not alone, don't you, or that guy or me
every day fight an unequal war to find food ?
No laxman has born to kill us."
Before ending this tale of superheroes, I want to tell you an incidence in Paris. It was like every other midnight in Paris. I was as usual drunk, hungry and watching outside the trees that looked barely alive. I thought what if tonight I become a superhero like spider man or something ( i have a superhero name too, UTUMAN), and jump around . Watch all the windows and balconies of this old dead city, all the people standing their. Some of them sad, some of them trying to be happy, but everyone alone. I wrote a poem. I find this as one of the best poems I have ever written. So it is for you now
Sohortar naam hote parto everest :
ordhek thutur moto j alo chnader mukh theke berochchhe,
tate unchu unchu shikhor gulo besh bhije bhije lagchhe,
chokhe him-o pore thakte pare.
adorer time bomb fatbe ki fatbe na tar opekkhay oneke niche boshe agun shamlachchhe.
onek upor gulote hawa eshe gaye perek thukchhe
keu keu, eka eka balconytey nijer ekakityo key joy korchhe.
sohorta besh purono diner notun kotha bole
sohortar naam hote parto everest.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Postcoital tristesse
As I read more and more about this Delignes article I start thinking about the time when I will completely understand this beauty. Isnt it sad that after the end I will move on to some other problem, just taking the ideas from this relationship, to apply in some other cases. Yes she is beautiful. Not the most beautiful thing I met this year, but she is so beautiful that everytime I try to understand her, I face a massive challenge. So I have to change my position, change my approach, but not for a single moment she allows me to take my attention away from her. She plays silly tricks by suddenly closing all the windows and not letting me to understand her. Then there lots of cigarette gets lit, the grand worship of this beauty begins. And as usual after few hour of maska marowing, there is a ray of light, some different angle of looking at it. Now I have a general outline of how she thinks and how she looks. It took long time to make this outline. For the sake of mathophiles this is the outline :
She is like something we know already, or we think we know already, obviously we know what are the fundamental groups of projective line minus three points in algebraic and topological cases. But then she is not what she looks like. She is still out of our reach of understanding and I will be really happy if she remains like that forever. What Delign starts thinking that like the unification of cohomology theories ( motives) , can we see the different fundemental groups related to some motive. So for that he first unifies all the cohomology theory in a naive way, called system of realisation. Then in this category of system of realisation we can define fundamental group as this category is a Tanakian category. Then he gives description of the motivic fundamental group and then the motivic fundamental group associated with projective line minus three points turns out to be the iterated extensions of the Tate motive Q(n). If the ultimate aim of this study is not exciting enough then one should know the things that we get when we are following this path. There are algebraic connections, algebraic monodromy and foliation floating around, then for Tate motives you will get a beautiful Zeta function, many number theoritic properties gets identified with differential geometry. I haven't understood most of the things yet. But still going good. The opening of the paper gives me a lot of pleasure, where Delign writes that much of good things related to projective line minus three points are still undiscovered. That is very unwestern, where they always claim of comeplete knowledge of things , and on basis of those propagandas they classify objects as if this world and all the objects here are their baap ka jaigir. Hope to finish the Paper tonight, but feeling sad to leave it.
She is like something we know already, or we think we know already, obviously we know what are the fundamental groups of projective line minus three points in algebraic and topological cases. But then she is not what she looks like. She is still out of our reach of understanding and I will be really happy if she remains like that forever. What Delign starts thinking that like the unification of cohomology theories ( motives) , can we see the different fundemental groups related to some motive. So for that he first unifies all the cohomology theory in a naive way, called system of realisation. Then in this category of system of realisation we can define fundamental group as this category is a Tanakian category. Then he gives description of the motivic fundamental group and then the motivic fundamental group associated with projective line minus three points turns out to be the iterated extensions of the Tate motive Q(n). If the ultimate aim of this study is not exciting enough then one should know the things that we get when we are following this path. There are algebraic connections, algebraic monodromy and foliation floating around, then for Tate motives you will get a beautiful Zeta function, many number theoritic properties gets identified with differential geometry. I haven't understood most of the things yet. But still going good. The opening of the paper gives me a lot of pleasure, where Delign writes that much of good things related to projective line minus three points are still undiscovered. That is very unwestern, where they always claim of comeplete knowledge of things , and on basis of those propagandas they classify objects as if this world and all the objects here are their baap ka jaigir. Hope to finish the Paper tonight, but feeling sad to leave it.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
just wanted to thank few people
It is almost 1:30 now, tried to read Deligns P^1 moins trois point. Can not penetrate after a certain limit. The language reminded me my time in Paris. French , french oh dear french. Anyway in this case the language does not matter, either I am overworked or did not work that hard to understand the paper. It makes me depressed when I can not understand something after sufficient amount of trials. Sufficient is defined loaclly, ha ha ha. Well, good news is that I am studying. When I came to Padova I was almost certain of some disaster. I used to think that either I would contract to some two dimensional space or I will leave mathematics and the emptyness created by that will force me to leave all the other things, or may be I will take up Jayants favourite profession wood cutting, or just increase my sleeping time to 24 hours per day. But none of that happened. I met exactly two people, one helped me to avoid the certain self destruction looming infront of me that time, another one helped me to start loving myself and the small things around me. One never misses a single chance to give me gali and gyan. Another one never misses a single chance to make me smile and energetic. I can easily calculate the number of hours I spend with maths in Paris and the first few months in Padova. Yes I survived the exam system, but that is not a big deal. I know how to play with the system without knowing anything. I should have joined management , hu ha ha . I have surely studied more than that in only this week. I like to talk about myself these days. How sexy I am, or how intelligent I can be, given sufficient motivation. I still remember the day when I left CMI. Yes, that was another difficult time, but I was motivated. Studied the whole summer before coming to Paris. Algebraic topology, representation theory, Weil correspondence, Srijats poems, Herbert. And then Paris took everything out of me. I never thought that can happen with me. I took a strong decision that time, of not running away or not killing myself. But sometime just the effort of survival in a hostile condition takes up all your energy, only things left were bottles of wine, your almost two dimensional bloodless body, and computer full of porn (hu hu ha ha ha). Last summer I went to many places in India, but still did not find any motivation. My home looked like a place where I never belonged, all my relatives looked so different, my grown up friends had different lingo, different set of jokes with which I can not identify anymore, they had different set of friends whom i did not know . As if I am a guest artist in a big comedy, who does not even have the chance to do a cameo. As if everyone was following the denial of my independent right of existence. Somehow I managed to spend the summer there, alive. That darkness was one kind of its own. Just imagine you are walking through a long dark tunnel forever, the more you walk the darker it becomes, you completely forget what a bright sunshine is. That was me, leaving from Kolkata with my bagpack on my back, with a virul fever and gland infection. First few months were not worse, but somehow the great inertia of slipping towards darkness never allowed me to come back. But then this two people helped me. This two buggers will be very sad later to help me survive properly. As the world will blame them for their sin. Till then
just thanks to them, dil se.
just thanks to them, dil se.
few desi movies which i liked
Just wanted to share the few great movies I have seen and which you might have missed.
1. Herbert : Yes, without any doubt, it is the best movie I have ever seen. The music , the surreal opening, the seesaw story telling, the dreamy locations of north calcutta, and offcourse all the actors. Hats off to Nabarun Bhattacharya for writing such an exceptional novel and hats off to Suman Mukherjee for his exceptional directorial debut. I saw this movie with my parents, and as usual before the movie I was pissed off. But the scene changed comepletely, I was the happiest person after the movie was over and they were embarrassed.
2. Bari theke Paliye : Ritwik Ghataks jump cuts, his desi movie making style , his musical sense and above all his scripts makes me hungry for more of his movies. I like the song "ami onek ghuriya sheshe ailam re kolkatta". Ritwik breaks his style of melodrama (which i like in his other movies)and adds a layer of subjectivity in this movie. He narrates the heartless calcutta from an outsiders point of view.
3. Calcutta 71 : CALCUTTA 71 is an indictment against violence and corruption throughout the ages. The film was directed by Mrinal Sen. CALCUTTA 71 is based on four short stories by writers of repute, each different from the other but all connected or interlinked to bring out a powerful statement. A searing study of the political turmoil of the seventies, CALCUTTA 71 is very harsh in documenting the agony of calcuttans. It had moments of high intensity rarely reached in Indian cinema. Sen had been collecting raw footage for this film since 1966. He did this for about five years or so. The film was released in 1972. The film dealt with Naxalism. Giving a subtle hint that the glorious sacrifices of those young students of late sixties and early seventies will be completely forgotten and we will turn out to be a coward race . Welcome to the reality cinema.
4. Gupi Gayen Bagha Bayen: It is the fairy tale which I always wanted to think about. Good kings, Good human beings, Bad ministers, war, songs, ghost dance, so Indian yet so universal.
5. Swas : The short story perfectly told accompanied by great performances. The locations of Konkan were probably the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Go to Konkan in the rainy season, you will thank me for this advise.
6. Black Friday and No Smoking : If first one tremendously realistic then the second one freaking surreal. Anurag Kashyap Is the genius of world cinema. He writes the best scripts. Then you will have the best background score, the best set of actors and the intense fight of light and shades with random camera movement. While in black friday his camera was slow moving most of the time except the chasing scenes, totally shot as a dark documentary, No smoking never follows the traditional angles and speed. His camera sleeps, then suddenly starts running, sometime only follows the main protagonist making the background look dead.
7. 3 Deewarein : Welcome to the world of Nagesh Kukunoor. He is probably the greatest story teller of modern desi cinema. He is like the matured Tnedulkar as far as story telling is concerned. A real winner with Naseer bhai doing magic again in this movie and Juhi Chawla with all her sweetness and beauty, this film never gives you the chance to predict what is going to happen. The minimalist approach Nagesh takes when it comes to technical aspects of the movie impresses me a lot. He knows what he can do best.
8 . Taare Zameen per : Only the first half. It is like some Mohsen Makhmalbaf movie, or some Italian noerealist artist creating images as the story makes its way being part of this continous image display. Second half is bullshit.
9 . Black : Sanjay L Bhnasali with his Ritwik Ghatak style melodrama always creates different images . His protagonists are loud, crying hard, and technically this man knows how to play with colors.
1. Herbert : Yes, without any doubt, it is the best movie I have ever seen. The music , the surreal opening, the seesaw story telling, the dreamy locations of north calcutta, and offcourse all the actors. Hats off to Nabarun Bhattacharya for writing such an exceptional novel and hats off to Suman Mukherjee for his exceptional directorial debut. I saw this movie with my parents, and as usual before the movie I was pissed off. But the scene changed comepletely, I was the happiest person after the movie was over and they were embarrassed.
2. Bari theke Paliye : Ritwik Ghataks jump cuts, his desi movie making style , his musical sense and above all his scripts makes me hungry for more of his movies. I like the song "ami onek ghuriya sheshe ailam re kolkatta". Ritwik breaks his style of melodrama (which i like in his other movies)and adds a layer of subjectivity in this movie. He narrates the heartless calcutta from an outsiders point of view.
3. Calcutta 71 : CALCUTTA 71 is an indictment against violence and corruption throughout the ages. The film was directed by Mrinal Sen. CALCUTTA 71 is based on four short stories by writers of repute, each different from the other but all connected or interlinked to bring out a powerful statement. A searing study of the political turmoil of the seventies, CALCUTTA 71 is very harsh in documenting the agony of calcuttans. It had moments of high intensity rarely reached in Indian cinema. Sen had been collecting raw footage for this film since 1966. He did this for about five years or so. The film was released in 1972. The film dealt with Naxalism. Giving a subtle hint that the glorious sacrifices of those young students of late sixties and early seventies will be completely forgotten and we will turn out to be a coward race . Welcome to the reality cinema.
4. Gupi Gayen Bagha Bayen: It is the fairy tale which I always wanted to think about. Good kings, Good human beings, Bad ministers, war, songs, ghost dance, so Indian yet so universal.
5. Swas : The short story perfectly told accompanied by great performances. The locations of Konkan were probably the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Go to Konkan in the rainy season, you will thank me for this advise.
6. Black Friday and No Smoking : If first one tremendously realistic then the second one freaking surreal. Anurag Kashyap Is the genius of world cinema. He writes the best scripts. Then you will have the best background score, the best set of actors and the intense fight of light and shades with random camera movement. While in black friday his camera was slow moving most of the time except the chasing scenes, totally shot as a dark documentary, No smoking never follows the traditional angles and speed. His camera sleeps, then suddenly starts running, sometime only follows the main protagonist making the background look dead.
7. 3 Deewarein : Welcome to the world of Nagesh Kukunoor. He is probably the greatest story teller of modern desi cinema. He is like the matured Tnedulkar as far as story telling is concerned. A real winner with Naseer bhai doing magic again in this movie and Juhi Chawla with all her sweetness and beauty, this film never gives you the chance to predict what is going to happen. The minimalist approach Nagesh takes when it comes to technical aspects of the movie impresses me a lot. He knows what he can do best.
8 . Taare Zameen per : Only the first half. It is like some Mohsen Makhmalbaf movie, or some Italian noerealist artist creating images as the story makes its way being part of this continous image display. Second half is bullshit.
9 . Black : Sanjay L Bhnasali with his Ritwik Ghatak style melodrama always creates different images . His protagonists are loud, crying hard, and technically this man knows how to play with colors.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Taslima wants to come back
She wants to come back , and she will, whether the pseudo secular Indian government finds it bad, or the shit head mullahs find it alarming or the chaddiwalahs find it great. She will return to her homeland. Let us fix first the statement that Taslimas homeland is India. Yes she was born and raised in Bangladesh but that was her time of horror. Her story can be easily the story of any indian girl,there are infinite such cases as the sex ratio gets screwed up in our very own cow land. Coupled with religion ( all the religions), subcontinent has the first position in crimes against woman. We, the Indians are infact sometime leading in statistics. Anyway, she left Bangladesh, as the current Bangladesh is a shit land. The shonar Bangla is not there anymore, the idealism behind Bangladesh, the sacrifices of all the martyrs of Bhasha andolon is completely forgotten. Now the mullahs rock. It is on the verge of becoming a Taliban state, same like Rajasthan, in some sense. I need to write hundred blogs about the extremist in Rajasthan and the fake glory of rajputs. But that is for another time. She came to kolkata, kolkata gave her refuge , since the communist government decided that whatever she wrote was not yet beyond the boundary of government defined freedom of speech. She wrote, literally those were not great piece of work. But that is not the point. There are all these bollywood filmi lyricist, writing intensely vulgar bullshit. They exist , so she, the person fighting for the rights of the most supressed part of indian subcontinent should exist. As she speaks one of the Indian languages, as she respects the inherent indian system of change and multi ethnicity, as she feels more for India than any other Indian, she is desi and not any bangladeshi. Her book, "Amar meybela", was full of explicit description of sexual abuses she faced. The so called intellectuals, specially marxist intellectuals did not like it as a piece of literature. In marxism, like any other religion, day is when the party says it is day. Anyway the paties decision to tolerate this heretic from the other side of the border was fully followed, and she was awarded , re-awarded, was made president of women related things. But suddenly the honeymoon finished. Suddenly, Mr Stalin Bhattacharya thought it is enough, she is hurting the sentiments of the minority. They will accept freedom of speech, but when it hurts some community they can not accept that. Indian political system, and the great old previous genration of Indians are really used to contradiction. They screwed up the nation and the life of ours
with their contradicting point of views. If hurting freedom of speech should stop speech , then why not Satipratha still there. When Raja Rammohan roy said against satipratha , the whole hindu brahmin bustard community were hurt, or when Vidyasagar wrote about widow marriage most of the people were against him , when Gandhi touched Harijans 1000 year old sentiments were hurt, when Bhagat Singh said Inquilab Zindabad the biggest empires sentiment was hurt, and the list goes on.....
Every person has the right to hurt others emotion, hurting whatever is old is the first step to creativity. The kind of stance taken by Indian government for freedom of speech is a stance of coward. You allow others to have freedom of speech as long as it doesn't hurt you and when it hurts you, you will kick the person out, is not the definition of freedom speech, it is not the definition of freedom, it is just the license to roam inside a cage.
Then there are all these chaddiwalahs who think freedom of speech is a western concept and we should not have it , and we should make a nation with hindu shariyat rule, where the god will have 19 hands and the prophet is a monkey with head like elephant. I have only one thing to tell them, there are still enough cages and enough trees in India, like phirangis we haven't destroyed our nature yet. Why not we promote our people to go back to those cages, be naked all the time, start hunting with stone weapons and grow tails. After 1000 years of stillness, atlast India is showing her true power. All her dreams are atlast looking achievable. And then this massive population of creatures of middle age are constantly trying to destroy this golden run. This is the time to fight for our real independence. Independence from all the prejuidiced, corrupt, coward, lazy Indians. As they dont fit in this dream land. Let drive out this haramkhor mullahs, chaddiwalahs, father teresas, fair and lovely
people out from India. Let our new slogan be "Haramkhoro Bharat chhoro". This is our last option, if we fail, we will be dead as a race, if we win, world will salute our queen India. Long live the queen.
Vande Mataram
with their contradicting point of views. If hurting freedom of speech should stop speech , then why not Satipratha still there. When Raja Rammohan roy said against satipratha , the whole hindu brahmin bustard community were hurt, or when Vidyasagar wrote about widow marriage most of the people were against him , when Gandhi touched Harijans 1000 year old sentiments were hurt, when Bhagat Singh said Inquilab Zindabad the biggest empires sentiment was hurt, and the list goes on.....
Every person has the right to hurt others emotion, hurting whatever is old is the first step to creativity. The kind of stance taken by Indian government for freedom of speech is a stance of coward. You allow others to have freedom of speech as long as it doesn't hurt you and when it hurts you, you will kick the person out, is not the definition of freedom speech, it is not the definition of freedom, it is just the license to roam inside a cage.
Then there are all these chaddiwalahs who think freedom of speech is a western concept and we should not have it , and we should make a nation with hindu shariyat rule, where the god will have 19 hands and the prophet is a monkey with head like elephant. I have only one thing to tell them, there are still enough cages and enough trees in India, like phirangis we haven't destroyed our nature yet. Why not we promote our people to go back to those cages, be naked all the time, start hunting with stone weapons and grow tails. After 1000 years of stillness, atlast India is showing her true power. All her dreams are atlast looking achievable. And then this massive population of creatures of middle age are constantly trying to destroy this golden run. This is the time to fight for our real independence. Independence from all the prejuidiced, corrupt, coward, lazy Indians. As they dont fit in this dream land. Let drive out this haramkhor mullahs, chaddiwalahs, father teresas, fair and lovely
people out from India. Let our new slogan be "Haramkhoro Bharat chhoro". This is our last option, if we fail, we will be dead as a race, if we win, world will salute our queen India. Long live the queen.
Vande Mataram
Thursday, May 15, 2008
this week, so far : "maths, ganja, puke, romance, tears "
I cried late night, whole night, for almost no reasons. Almost because it is not true that there was zero reasons. In fact I felt sad and angry for everything. I cursed God, as usual. This is a really good trick, specially when you are sad, dead tired because of the hangover from last night, and feel like doing nothing other than watching porn, then curse god. I saw Tare Zameen per again. I can associate my experiences with most of the first part of Tare Zameen per. Through my brother and to some extent through my exeperience, I recollected all those scenes from my childhood. Whenever I see TZP I feel that AK had the capability to make it as good as one of my favourite movie Herbert. But he is greedy, greedy to put his face in his movie. So what can I do , gaand marao lajjahin.
Ganja is great. Specially when you are single, multiple heart broken, married to your right hand (resp. left hand), living in a dirty room in a dirty continent, doing mathematics, want some well deserved detachment from others world. I got it tuesday night. It was hard, after seven and half months I had the thing which can be easily called the poison of my life. I remembered last summer. Everyweek, almost twice or thrice I used to smoke joint and then just sat on the rooftop, tried to steal some breeze. "Anyway smoke ganja once in a while" can be a really good lesson for this week. But , attention. Don't drink too much before smoking some hard joint. You will obviously throw up as Srushti has done in his consecutive two birthdays. I puked a lot in CMI. But the problem with me is that I dont remember the pain of throwing up.
My grandmother said once that every guy in my family is childishly romantic. I don't know what that means, or whether she was cursing my grandfather for not being practical in his whole life, but what I feel that, even without being in relationship with any girl in my life, I always feel that I am in love. It is good thing, since it helps me to sleep properly, with multiple shows of dreams. Bad thing is that I am the only person who knows that I am in love. I have met thousands of girls, and few women in my life. Some of them liked me as a time pass, most of them liked me because liking is a formality in our time, some of them cursed me , some of them made me their brother ( i hate them, chutiya bananeke liye aur koi nehi mila kya), some of them slept with someone else and moaned loudly when they were copulating just to make sure the sound reaches me, some of them forgot my name ( I have a really nice name), but thats it , loving is the activity which they did with others. Today morning when I got up , it was morning, and I was still alive. This is the kind of thing that I am loving now. Zero expectation life. Where just being alive is the only criteria.
Now comes maths. Lately I was working on my masters thesis. As usual reading Voevodsky's paper is like masturbating with your legs. I do like his results , but his proofs are shit, they stink if they exist. So I was trying to prove some of the results by myself. And bingo, I proved one result completely, which classifies the Nisnevich sheaves using Nisnevich cartesian squares. The lovely part is that it uses a corollary, whose proof I didn't understand. So I was trying to prove it by myself, and came up with a stronger result, and believe me or not, the result came directly from commutative algebra. I felt young again, I can still do commutative algebra. Probably I should concentrate on solving small problems. Big problems dont like me. But then who cares, I have one life, no expectations, death and life are homotopically equivalent, so lets try everything, from Riemann Hypothesis to some small commutative algebra problem.
Ganja is great. Specially when you are single, multiple heart broken, married to your right hand (resp. left hand), living in a dirty room in a dirty continent, doing mathematics, want some well deserved detachment from others world. I got it tuesday night. It was hard, after seven and half months I had the thing which can be easily called the poison of my life. I remembered last summer. Everyweek, almost twice or thrice I used to smoke joint and then just sat on the rooftop, tried to steal some breeze. "Anyway smoke ganja once in a while" can be a really good lesson for this week. But , attention. Don't drink too much before smoking some hard joint. You will obviously throw up as Srushti has done in his consecutive two birthdays. I puked a lot in CMI. But the problem with me is that I dont remember the pain of throwing up.
My grandmother said once that every guy in my family is childishly romantic. I don't know what that means, or whether she was cursing my grandfather for not being practical in his whole life, but what I feel that, even without being in relationship with any girl in my life, I always feel that I am in love. It is good thing, since it helps me to sleep properly, with multiple shows of dreams. Bad thing is that I am the only person who knows that I am in love. I have met thousands of girls, and few women in my life. Some of them liked me as a time pass, most of them liked me because liking is a formality in our time, some of them cursed me , some of them made me their brother ( i hate them, chutiya bananeke liye aur koi nehi mila kya), some of them slept with someone else and moaned loudly when they were copulating just to make sure the sound reaches me, some of them forgot my name ( I have a really nice name), but thats it , loving is the activity which they did with others. Today morning when I got up , it was morning, and I was still alive. This is the kind of thing that I am loving now. Zero expectation life. Where just being alive is the only criteria.
Now comes maths. Lately I was working on my masters thesis. As usual reading Voevodsky's paper is like masturbating with your legs. I do like his results , but his proofs are shit, they stink if they exist. So I was trying to prove some of the results by myself. And bingo, I proved one result completely, which classifies the Nisnevich sheaves using Nisnevich cartesian squares. The lovely part is that it uses a corollary, whose proof I didn't understand. So I was trying to prove it by myself, and came up with a stronger result, and believe me or not, the result came directly from commutative algebra. I felt young again, I can still do commutative algebra. Probably I should concentrate on solving small problems. Big problems dont like me. But then who cares, I have one life, no expectations, death and life are homotopically equivalent, so lets try everything, from Riemann Hypothesis to some small commutative algebra problem.
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