The outrage

Chocolates are over, and frankly i didn't need chocolate to get over the damne sad feeling. It was chadril bhattacharya who did the magic again. For those who can read bengali ( that to a really bad texted document) they are lucky enough to read the stuff here :
http://www.guruchandali.com/guruchandali.Controller?font=unicode&portletId=1&pid=jcr://content/guruchandali/guruchandali12/1212466730072

Those who ca't I will try to translate the things later. It is really sad that people like Chandril Bhattacharya is still unnoticed in India. Mainly becuase he writes his things in Bengali. But in near future, I am sure that he will be recognized as one of the leading intellectuals in the world of his time. His logics are very sharp and he has the tremendous power of writing in a style which is really easy to understand but yet the style is funny and well written at the same time. His metaphors always come from real life, and they are not universal most often, and that is the great thing i like. the attempt of universality is a failed one, and i believe that local properties are the only things worth studying (sorry to all the french philosophers, you guys suck a big time, learn something from chandril). This article of Chandril is probably the best article he has ever written or i have ever studied. I tried to write something on the same topic, though the intellectual content was not comparable to that of Chandril, once upon time. We have two different words for love in bengali one is prem another one is bhalobasa. It was way back in high school when I thought about the reason of having this two seprate words. It is not true that both of them means the same thing. Because bengali is a very young language and the colloqial part is the most influential part in bengali literature and language. So this two words should have different meaning. So tried to understand the difference of the two things. I dont know i failed or not in that article but it was true that love has different meanings in different relationships. I showed my article to my almost girlfriend and her boyfriend that time. Both of them didn't agree with whatever i said, this is not a new thing, generally people dont agree with me. but given the conditions that time, i decided to dump the idea of publishing it anyway. When you are a teenager and you have an almost girlfriend, you have to agree with her. Anyway Chandril's article reminded me that one. One of the best part of the article is the use of one of Alakta Nag's comment. In high school, in my favourite course indian culture, our teacher Satya maharaj one day talked about Freud and Derridas work. I bet no one understood a single thing when he was talking about Derrida (including me), and no one supported Freuds arguements (except me). So I thought about studying Derrida. It was bad decision altogether, but I didn't do anything special in high school apart from sleeping, occasional pornography, poetry and adda. So I bought a book of deconstruction and understood nothing from it , Derrida sucks. Then one of my teacher told me to read Anant Nag and Gayatri Spivak. Gayatri Spivak was awesomely boring, it is more boring than any western get together, where you dont have anything fruitful execpt getting dead drunk, or may be that is the reason of getting drunk as people are intellectually challenged in this white world. But Anant Nag was spectacular. I read his work on post independence India and its hatred for the white world. It was amazing, probably the most powerful work on postcolonial literature and philosophies till date ( remembering Edaward Said). I dont know why they dont introduce his work in university education, it can easily generate the sense of tiraskar in mind of indians for the western world, since it is very much needed at this point of time, as more and more we trying to allign ourselves with this axis of evil called the western world. It is said that Alakta Nag made even Derrida uncomfortable with his point of views. Anyway the thing Chandril uses in his article is the following, sorry vulgarity is guaranteed in my blogs, since this is
mine and i dont hide anything when i write ( even my incapability of writing in this phirangi language called english):
" We get kicks regularly. your van picks us up, your clean shaved darogas search bodies of our mothers-sisters. Sun passes away so does accidents. Our brain sticks to the wall of your torcherchamber and lock ups, it drops down from the tip of your boot. After licking our own blood with our squashed ear we run to the lamppost , for appointment with our girlfriends. We break the bulb, making your camera blind. We lick even the tonsils of our imagined wives in a sea long kiss. .......Yes we the son of bitches of third world will teach your pale heart what love is . With our claws and teeth we will teach you the song of slef arrested person in a harem. We piss on everyculture evry day. With our bad breath and our sweaty shirts our fat wives will squat near the tubewell and we will see from our windows and say lets play hide and seek in our childhood locality. We don't have perfume, lollypop, monopoly, we dont preach monogamy hypocritically. We only have body full of swelling, wounds, our only jewellary. We can wait, we can think, we can fast and hence we can love."


Long live Indian philosophy and Indian philosophers.