tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74436491966881234282024-03-18T02:47:29.276-07:00Rivers I Have KnownAmritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-53291710739665889082012-05-28T05:33:00.002-07:002012-05-28T05:33:56.275-07:00It's Been a Long Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello friends,<br />
It's been a long time, but I've been quite busy. I created my own website, and I write there now!<br />
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Please do check it out at <a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><br />
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Looking forward to your visit and feedback. thank you!<br />
LGL</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com151tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-43019035429119320782012-03-05T19:23:00.003-08:002012-06-02T03:08:28.574-07:00Rivers Reborn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Hi everybody,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">It's been a long time. Hope you've all been doing well for yourselves.</span></div>
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Just wanted to give you a few updates. I quit my day job to follow my dream and become a writer (God I sound like a precious little hero when I say this)</div>
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Apart from other writing projects, I have also taken up blogging again. But Rivers I Have Known has a new home now, and a new Avatar. Rivers is now at WordPress, and it is now a blog about books, which are my first passion, and book reviews, which I have always loved to do.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Rivers will also </span>occasionally<span style="font-size: 100%;"> have guest reviewers to review movies, music, and art. But mostly it will be me being me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">I hope to see all of you following the new blog. I had a lot of fun writing for you, and I would love it if we can continue our journey together. </span></div>
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Visit me at <a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="color: red; font-weight: bold;">Rivers I have Known at Wordpress</a>. Leave your honest feedbacks in comments, and don't forget to follow.</div>
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Thank you,</div>
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Amritorupa (Little Girl Lost)<br />
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Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at <a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a>. Please visit her there!
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-27156079851412553722012-01-27T03:08:00.000-08:002012-06-02T03:08:40.770-07:00Internet Memes, or Why We are Moving Towards Comfortably Dumb<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="text-align: justify;">If you have spent any significant part of last year wasting time on the internet, you will probably know what these images mean:</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXAAxwm0ZfXkt0tBKELwTiOufZrXQoGfHgeOGvxzmO8-Lv3KuxoWtO4I4bYoaiwsJuugB67pesdUKFwebI6BLmFDyGINt0DtT3L3josW-E8sDpe2DOAYzq3DOIRv52tPaWsl6Bf4kCGwn/s1600/memes.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5702267650972628482" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEXAAxwm0ZfXkt0tBKELwTiOufZrXQoGfHgeOGvxzmO8-Lv3KuxoWtO4I4bYoaiwsJuugB67pesdUKFwebI6BLmFDyGINt0DtT3L3josW-E8sDpe2DOAYzq3DOIRv52tPaWsl6Bf4kCGwn/s200/memes.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 85px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
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The concept of meme, introduced, I believe, by Richard Dawkins, means an idea that replicates itself in the minds of other brains and spreads very quickly. The Internet memes, aided by the invisible superpowers of the net, have lit up its unproductive nooks like a forest fire. You can understand their almost addictive appeal- they don’t need you to do any thinking, any idea that can be described has a template of images to describe it in, the celebration is not of the new and the unique, but of the comfortable herd.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>It’s not just the internet and not just the memes, anywhere you look you see a gradual dumbing down. The TV channels that used to show music ten years ago now show young people having cussing contests. The newspapers that once gloried in brilliant editorials today have nipple expose scandals as front page news.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>I realize how judgmental these words sound, but that is not their intention. Being dumb is not per se bad; it may even have become a requirement. What if we have gotten as wise as is evolutionarily feasible, and now if we get any wiser we’ll be jiving our way to extinction like lemmings. Perhaps a herd mentality and a low intellect are precisely what are needed for humankind to continue thriving? It will certainly bring down suicide rates, destructiveness, wars, and all other dark spawns of deep thought. It makes me think of the dual society in HG Wells’ Time Machine. But no doubt its better for people to watch Roadies or browse 9gag for hours rather than plot murder, mayhem and/or self harm.</div>
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Hello everybody. Sorry for this pathetically bad piece of writing. I haven’t written in years and I am creaky. But I plan to write regularly, hopefully daily now, show I might be able to shed off the years of gathered mucus.</div>
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Thanks, all.</div>
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Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at <a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a>. Please visit her there!</div>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-40181877983249412122011-03-31T09:19:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:08:56.401-07:00Tonight we drink to heartache<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-l-9Rnz1uxLQMYD5EdfXCncu3QbfQDn8N7l1TunB-0PWjLG9r0AMON0yQnHHt-It9yJkgpKZ0t1tSqIYAgMZftNx3PphMbTyrVfzYiy1ZYWZrhdX1mYN8nnlRS5Vx-QNjZgA6MCZS0_Qn/s1600/grapes.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590281426020192354" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-l-9Rnz1uxLQMYD5EdfXCncu3QbfQDn8N7l1TunB-0PWjLG9r0AMON0yQnHHt-It9yJkgpKZ0t1tSqIYAgMZftNx3PphMbTyrVfzYiy1ZYWZrhdX1mYN8nnlRS5Vx-QNjZgA6MCZS0_Qn/s320/grapes.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 264px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 191px;" /></a> <br />
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Tonight we drink to heartache, and we can't get drunk enough</div>
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You crush each individual grape between your toes.</div>
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Your eyes are numb as you sense the juices flow.</div>
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And we curl our fingers around your momentary love.</div>
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We lay down in your coalstack but we are not warm enough.</div>
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You crush each individual grape between your toes.</div>
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Each lover kisses your drying blood to life before he goes.</div>
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We hold your head steady in your pool of eternal love.</div>
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We light ourselves a fire around the secrets that you grow.</div>
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Each moment is eternal that you crush between your toes.</div>
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And before you bury us we hold you long and deep.</div>
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Eternal is a moment in your drunken dreamless sleep.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-33043638593305611832011-03-14T06:20:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:09:09.036-07:00tor kobita shombondhe amar motamot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohGGsnP6c6j7dcB9EitTZV4njmmLZhow_Ex13HwMOkg6HX86EU76QNLXM7_uq3VDOIcUxdYaZCgBbROZNKjaBY8X4PqxgQAgBIz56wAdMxPHyqSI4NoBu-aj13VgZWy4YHIf-jhpFewMk/s1600/ZL35000A.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583932483107547618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiohGGsnP6c6j7dcB9EitTZV4njmmLZhow_Ex13HwMOkg6HX86EU76QNLXM7_uq3VDOIcUxdYaZCgBbROZNKjaBY8X4PqxgQAgBIz56wAdMxPHyqSI4NoBu-aj13VgZWy4YHIf-jhpFewMk/s320/ZL35000A.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 228px;" /></a><br />
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Tui hoyto bhabish je tui agun.<br />
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Tui hoyto bhabish je tui jhor.</div>
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Udiye niye puriye diye jabe</div>
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Tor kobita amar e shohor.</div>
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Hoyto tui nijeke bhabish pakhi,</div>
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Kon shokal-e ghum bhangabi shobar.</div>
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Hoyto bhabish ekla samurai,</div>
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Kobita tor motto torobaar.</div>
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Tui jetake bhabish sheko beesh</div>
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Ashole ta makha chirey-dudh.</div>
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Lekh tui tor joto icche, tobe</div>
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Acid bhebe chhetashne ar muut.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-21084198277127479102010-05-25T08:07:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:10:07.567-07:00Ami Prem-e Aro Hasi Chai<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-style: italic;">hasi maity-r jonno-</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnwLMEpVcERHB226jn4yXXk5A6JOlAgNe8L1Wwg8toxlHocrKuEFF5ZUmKKe1shbJREl2AXbkNVuThd-IDkWaQaBE9e9XPd2mhaI8zyplhlYrfCJQzx4HrHX4of1mWsRwiMjoyKu3AmX1/s1600/work.184770.9.flat,550x550,075,f.monsoon-warli-folk-art-tribal-painting-from-india.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475226855761459138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnnwLMEpVcERHB226jn4yXXk5A6JOlAgNe8L1Wwg8toxlHocrKuEFF5ZUmKKe1shbJREl2AXbkNVuThd-IDkWaQaBE9e9XPd2mhaI8zyplhlYrfCJQzx4HrHX4of1mWsRwiMjoyKu3AmX1/s320/work.184770.9.flat,550x550,075,f.monsoon-warli-folk-art-tribal-painting-from-india.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 240px;" /></a><br />
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Morche pora <br />
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Pagla Heera,</div>
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Shomoy bujhi paltalona?</div>
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Sranto-olosh</div>
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Albertross,</div>
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Tai ki chhero nijer dana?</div>
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Krishno heere,</div>
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Tomay gheere</div>
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Jolche koto neon pakhi,</div>
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Jolche koto</div>
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Shonar pidim,</div>
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Konta feli konta rakhi?</div>
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Duiti hasi</div>
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Pashapashi</div>
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Ekti heera ekti meki.</div>
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Kolshi-r nyaye</div>
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Bhangle aamay</div>
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Prem debona tai bole ki?</div>
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<span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-86917737931552057232010-05-17T08:14:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:10:44.718-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_L9JNGPJpRwrYz7GczlNisKTTQa8SMHhbI4sAQjLwUpBZQU0Mk1d5mf_ABt5-cwgCz7FU4Yo1hnZrmLB7Wg6sMXo3bd-Agfphv9pvwIUmN_eBOhVuKpux0pDxs4bIDH9WaOvqj19hxD5/s1600/1-power-of-red-nadine-rippelmeyer.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472258086442490898" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX_L9JNGPJpRwrYz7GczlNisKTTQa8SMHhbI4sAQjLwUpBZQU0Mk1d5mf_ABt5-cwgCz7FU4Yo1hnZrmLB7Wg6sMXo3bd-Agfphv9pvwIUmN_eBOhVuKpux0pDxs4bIDH9WaOvqj19hxD5/s320/1-power-of-red-nadine-rippelmeyer.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 320px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 239px;" /></a><br />
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Din namcha-r anatomy<br />
Aakash jure rokto bomi<br />
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Shohoj ruosh-e ghurche churi<br />
Andha-mukhi, dhongshogami<br />
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Ar ekti raat bashor shajay<br />
Ar ekta din haarai ami<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-4784065183674525222010-04-24T11:57:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:09:51.769-07:00to a commenter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_w8MTo5ldWProAY3ZzF7n-SdJnHbNS7JShk7CwDbKXquUHhlzoxr110ufEE2DB_j3RsO_ETRG5Wp_4somcXHqyvQVlSUhgnUITDgfKfmXvbONdvNFe9eB-mQunDt9gWouBkQviAjcgQk/s1600/buno.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463781039525286242" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB_w8MTo5ldWProAY3ZzF7n-SdJnHbNS7JShk7CwDbKXquUHhlzoxr110ufEE2DB_j3RsO_ETRG5Wp_4somcXHqyvQVlSUhgnUITDgfKfmXvbONdvNFe9eB-mQunDt9gWouBkQviAjcgQk/s200/buno.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 118px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 96px;" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #000099; font-weight: bold;">Buno Mainak</span> said...<br />
"good,intense,tight but cliche.overused words and images crowd together....we want sum fre<img alt="" src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/anik/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" />shness from ur pen,dear"<br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;">Your constructive criticism<br />Does not help me grow.<br />I am a rodent size person<br />With a whale size ego.<br /><br />Treat this as an entreaty<br />from a much pampered friend.<br />If you like it, exaggerate.<br />If you don't, pretend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span> </span></div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-40554322278990400892010-03-12T07:32:00.000-08:002012-06-02T03:07:50.357-07:00For Almond Eyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehTP-MG-R-INmTLXxxi92VQNsU7rDgCMddZGWARjoX3Adi1ZBnZqnnBUEDY1X2spAweU6Txpe6gzDiLtYityAqY7fOTTORljk_pATZupDYvHXEDj6vs7RAcbRvhmm75-k78dSuRmBb-H9/s1600-h/SmokeRingsPooleL.jpg"><span style="color: #993300;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447774373046120082" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehTP-MG-R-INmTLXxxi92VQNsU7rDgCMddZGWARjoX3Adi1ZBnZqnnBUEDY1X2spAweU6Txpe6gzDiLtYityAqY7fOTTORljk_pATZupDYvHXEDj6vs7RAcbRvhmm75-k78dSuRmBb-H9/s400/SmokeRingsPooleL.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></span></a><span style="color: #993300;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #993300;">I try to write<br />Inside my head.<br />I play with words all day.<br />I paint with them.<br />I sing to them.<br />But I cannot make them stay.<br /><br /><br />I tried to write<br />Of castles built<br />With matches, cards and strings.<br />Of hours spent<br />In slow regret,<br />And blowing perfect rings.<br /><br /><br />I’ve tried to write<br />Of why I sought<br />A downward curving smile.<br />And how we interred<br />A girl who dared<br />To love with tasteless guile.<br /><br />Doing the math</span></div>
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<span style="color: #993300;">Of collision paths, <br />And vows that sound sublime.<br />And motherhood<br />Tied hand and foot,<br />Sneering, biding time.<br /><br />Of all of me,<br />Together to be<br />A small domestic army.<br />Of words that scald<br />My faulty world,<br />And blows that merely scar me.<br /><br /><br />Of Almond Eyes,<br />And all the lies<br />I’ve told to get this far.<br />Falling in love<br />With a man I thought<br />I’d been loving from the start.<br /><br />I’m trying to make<br />These words behave<br />The way I’m perambulating.<br />Words are all<br />I’ve ever screwed<br />(<em>But that’s me, deviating</em>)<br /><br /><br />Almond Eyes<br />I want to write.<br />That’s all I’m trying to say.<br />I want to write<br />For you, my love,<br />But you take my words away. </span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal alo writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-47896394050900745232010-03-04T07:40:00.000-08:002012-06-02T03:10:34.818-07:00Regressing.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTFdN4pmcjGus7L4MPMIRo_cNOT6tGphnYw-_S2ykgzTVJ5gW2CR1FmLnJGrha2dUDfTd9mM12QZyVeiqrWYX5zPNIJ69-774uI8_iitUKpQ3HOcxUydDTP9z7GIxOihrUL02P5ykoXI9/s1600-h/so-sad-myra-evans.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444807082235328754" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTFdN4pmcjGus7L4MPMIRo_cNOT6tGphnYw-_S2ykgzTVJ5gW2CR1FmLnJGrha2dUDfTd9mM12QZyVeiqrWYX5zPNIJ69-774uI8_iitUKpQ3HOcxUydDTP9z7GIxOihrUL02P5ykoXI9/s400/so-sad-myra-evans.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: red; font-family: georgia;">I’m the girl who does not care<br />If I’m gaining weight or losing hair<br />If my husband has a damn affair<br />I simply wimply do not care.<br /><br />My boss is aloof & my colleagues are mean<br />Stuff in my fridge are turning green.<br />Not a single shirt is clean<br />I’m not bothered. I don’t care.<br /><br />My boyfriend tells me I’m a mess.<br />I’m the cause for my parents’ stress.<br />My friends all like me less & less.<br />It breaks my heart. But I don’t care.<br /><br />I know squat about corporate law.<br />Cigarettes are rubbing my trachea raw.<br />I cook bad enough to inspire awe.<br />I know I should, but I STILL don’t care.<br /><br />So I turned fifty last week<br />So I’m getting wrinkles on my cheek.<br />So strangers tell me I’m a freak.<br />Do I look like I fucking care?<br /><br />And my writers block is here to stay.<br />So the one thing I had has gone away.<br />And my first poem in months reads like juvenile crap.<br />And it doesn’t rhyme, by the way.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-29115450931209321982009-11-03T06:05:00.000-08:002012-06-02T03:11:53.134-07:00Hiralal-er Biyer Aage Ekta Kobita<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7H65nlQH9uef7Otw3OBxcZFCdtqyB3cbSrIvrUxSzDsY8BUQHpitXFTHlD8mn6yZxmmlBs2CpHw2RUdTRoRc_Qx1OaqKtH2uOPJz0tOLbBVnWnO9HEmxC0TeTxLlYCE4tsYh0eSYQXx7k/s1600-h/herbert2.bmp"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399886072618154258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7H65nlQH9uef7Otw3OBxcZFCdtqyB3cbSrIvrUxSzDsY8BUQHpitXFTHlD8mn6yZxmmlBs2CpHw2RUdTRoRc_Qx1OaqKtH2uOPJz0tOLbBVnWnO9HEmxC0TeTxLlYCE4tsYh0eSYQXx7k/s400/herbert2.bmp" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 281px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><span style="color: #3366ff;">Kon hashi ta kothaay haashi, ulto-palta birombona.<br />Bus-er bhire hothath dekha buuk-er khaajer uttejona.<br /><br />Udor theke pitthi hoye uttejona golaa-e othe.<br />Ghamchi ami, gilche aamay kolonkito toshok-khana. </span><br />
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<em><span style="color: red;">“Biye-er porei meye-ra emon pichon theke mutoye keno?"</span></em><br />
<span style="color: #3366ff;">Aar kota mash, tarpore to kol-tola te aar jabo na… </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-size: 78%;">Chobi ta ki chena gelo?</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-52882467337438645682009-10-05T09:35:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:12:28.580-07:00Prithibi-te Maash Khaanek<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHWI8MrrLDyQVZQnutA_ycR46xqXCOXqosuxbXiKo499CYMiyMjCDbHvwcjcH5OHB_nOBDbVWHA2Upbh37nrvzC48aCek50puaTiIDVH27ZqeQAm-XQPbr27t1u4Bm-IZsysf4Q69PNrf/s1600-h/1-the-soothing-rain-garth-palanuk.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389156712746257170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRHWI8MrrLDyQVZQnutA_ycR46xqXCOXqosuxbXiKo499CYMiyMjCDbHvwcjcH5OHB_nOBDbVWHA2Upbh37nrvzC48aCek50puaTiIDVH27ZqeQAm-XQPbr27t1u4Bm-IZsysf4Q69PNrf/s400/1-the-soothing-rain-garth-palanuk.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<span style="color: #3333ff;">Bristi hole shwopnoneer-e hurhuriye jol dhoke,<br />Nachte gelei achhar khabi, shamle dhori mon toke.<br /></span><span style="color: #3333ff;"><em>Baranda-r dorja khana pokko haather surgery.<br />Kaada jol-e paa dubiye raatri jege paayechari.</em><br />Rosh paayi na bhaath-er fyan-e, rosh paayi na bisna-te.<br />Rosh-er khoj-e shukno manush, nidra chhanchi majh-raate.<br /></span><span style="color: #3333ff;"><em>Aar jonmer jomaano beesh daag enke deye shorir-moy.<br />Sheera-ye sheera-ye beesh dhelejaai, hoye jodi hok bishokkhoy.</em><br />Raat puriye bhoshmo kurai, raat furaleyi ondhokar.<br />Ondhokaar-e huul futiye, jonmacchi barombaar.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span> </div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-6634658567788208772009-09-11T02:37:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:12:47.398-07:00Reality continues to ruin my life...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDN46RKQjG5vG2uEjeoSWFx7NccKZfILa8XxSN0aYL-iHc3eEMDylOLhBCcEXBtqeZ_iSbTsXcJ9ulhODkE98I0nJAvRdifmhy-roke33DRAxYgz6zJ8j2DUpq4zvAyiSi4-x-NYV5Cbr/s1600-h/ashum-calvin_and_hobbes.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380144535829842034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixDN46RKQjG5vG2uEjeoSWFx7NccKZfILa8XxSN0aYL-iHc3eEMDylOLhBCcEXBtqeZ_iSbTsXcJ9ulhODkE98I0nJAvRdifmhy-roke33DRAxYgz6zJ8j2DUpq4zvAyiSi4-x-NYV5Cbr/s400/ashum-calvin_and_hobbes.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 267px;" /></a><br />
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Help! Help! Aliens!</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>They kidnapped my homework!!</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Wish they'd take me too...</strong></span></em></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ff6600;">.</span></em></strong><br />
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<em><span style="color: black;"><strong>A slushy snow ball.</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: black;"><strong>Aim tight! No! Look behind you!</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: black;"><strong>Demented Snowmen!!</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>This planet can be</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>Magical , but only if</strong></span></em></div>
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<em><span style="color: #ff6600;"><strong>You have a tiger.</strong></span></em></div>
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<strong><em><span style="color: #ff6600;">.</span></em></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="color: #000099; font-size: 78%;"><em>very many thanks to Kriti for the awesome link.</em> </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #000099; font-size: 78%;"><em><br /></em></span></strong><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: justify;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span> </div>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-16299434253176351462009-09-09T06:11:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:15:42.270-07:00A Month Of Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlnLxyaCT4rvVaJtiq3_iog2-tYtnYIzIBh0RCWiefcKcZvPNcyPKFJn2EXEVIvdJSIascabBgrOXsIdN3RuuQ0aghaew7VntdM708nzFZ-bV1pavyXFIXSdOlV3btWPxXIfUvx5_mXft/s1600-h/love.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379455869332853314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvlnLxyaCT4rvVaJtiq3_iog2-tYtnYIzIBh0RCWiefcKcZvPNcyPKFJn2EXEVIvdJSIascabBgrOXsIdN3RuuQ0aghaew7VntdM708nzFZ-bV1pavyXFIXSdOlV3btWPxXIfUvx5_mXft/s400/love.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 297px;" /></a><br />
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Things are happening.<br />
A lot of things are happening, even as you sit on your ass and browse through the internet and wonder where all the love is.<br />
Love is. It simply is. And if its not, at this moment, making your life or breaking your spine or rendering you useless or giving you ideas or giving you the flu or laughing in your face, then you are probably the exception rather than the rule.<br />
Love is out there. Doing things. And never more have I realized it since the last one month, when nearly all of my close friends have come to me with some love story or the other. So, names weirdly changed, this is what I have brought for show and tell…<br />
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My friend Sash, after years of bugging me to introduce him to my girl friends, has finally found love, in the avatar of a beautiful South Indian girl. His only problem- her family hates him, because he is from a different state and a different caste. My advice to him is to be thankful she is South Indian and not Hariyanvi, or her brother would be coming after him with not sarcasm and disdain, but a butcher knife. Good luck buddy.<br />
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The Gothic Angel, a young lady I admired immensely for her very noir style of writing, her dark, dark humour, and her love of morbidity, has stumbled out of the dark and damp into a sunny field of poppies that love can be. Being a very talented person, she expresses this new discovery deliciously, in poems and prose. But I hope she is still morbid. It would be a great loss to the world of blogging if she loses her sense of irony.<br />
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Happy, has fallen in love with a girl who is much younger than him and who doesn’t love him back, and he has been, I’m sorry to say, acting like a goat for the past many months. His Lolita has him twirled around her fingers. This week, he found out that she has been lying outrageously to him about most things. But he will not believe. No he won’t. I just want him to know that I’m really sorry all this is happening to him, but he needs to take charge of his own life. People can take advantage of you only as far as you let them.<br />
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The grasshopper, who had been ditched by his girl several months ago, insisted on staying in touch with her, contrary to my advice. He said he could not live without her, could not fall out of love. Well, it was fine till one day her new boyfriend picked up, and told him to bugger off and stay away from his girl. GH spent the next few days reeling with shock, humiliation, and misery. Let this be a lesson to all of you- never call up people who have ditched you, unless you want to invite them for your wedding.<br />
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My friend Kit lost her boyfriend of 8 years in a very avoidable accident. She was telling me one day on Gtalk about the doubts she was having about their relationship, and whether he was really good enough for her, and how she knew several people who liked her who were smarter, better looking, and more sensitive, and also how she really fancied a guy at her office. Well, he checked into her account that very evening, and went through her chat history. Well, you can probably imagine the rest of the story. No amount of groveling apologies could rescue their relationship and induce him to stay. Kit is today a very humbled, very lonely, very miserable person. Moral of the story- do NOT share your password with your already insecure boyfriend.<br />
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Nirvana’s love story is straight out of Ekta Kapoor’s worst nightmare. He loves this girl and she loves him back, but she has been in a relationship for the past eight years, and though it has been long loveless and dead, she cannot leave him because when she was a child, her mom left her dad for someone she loved and now though she respects what her mom did, she does not want to follow her footsteps, and she loves her dad a lot and her dad loves this other guy and blah blah blah bleggghh. Don’t worry, none of this made any sense to me either, so I told him that the only way for him to swim out of this psychological quagmire is to hire somebody to have the girl’s first boyfriend picked up and castrated. I even offered him the number of such a ‘somebody’, but good advice is never appreciated. Sheesh!<br />
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Closer home, LGL has shifted to a new city, a new job, and has moved in with her (same old) boyfriend. And she is a much wiser little girl since her last post.<br />
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<em>LGL is wiser by this grain</em>: <strong><span style="color: #6600cc;">A stuffed bunny will take five minutes to wash, but 2 days to dry..</span></strong><br />
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A lot of things are happening, even as you sit on your ass and browse through the internet and wonder where all the love is.<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><br />
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-89543194970884534152009-08-26T02:26:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:16:39.170-07:00What The Hell Do YOU Know About Heartbreak, Little Girl?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSXGqJAhfAptETfof8jCthBDT2gz89TKYtjsOkC1GPFI6SaUxI0UgZJpC0bxlnxxVSHNEyUQNO8i-hjBFDt6WWMb9lDdYZzyV1pMdJqdqIY1Hxr4SzME3LSWDv-_8JIa86fkl8YHrcXXJT/s1600-h/Photo-0081.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5374205702614141986" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSXGqJAhfAptETfof8jCthBDT2gz89TKYtjsOkC1GPFI6SaUxI0UgZJpC0bxlnxxVSHNEyUQNO8i-hjBFDt6WWMb9lDdYZzyV1pMdJqdqIY1Hxr4SzME3LSWDv-_8JIa86fkl8YHrcXXJT/s400/Photo-0081.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></a><br />
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She used to say<br />It’s so girly to cry.<br />So I’m trying not to.<br />Trying.<br />Not to.<br />Cry.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p><br />She felt like home.<br />She felt like the mountains and the forests and the rivers back from where I come.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p><br />And you tell me, Little Girl, to make a nick in myself and let all my sorrow leak out.</div>
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<o:p> </o:p></div>
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What I’m trying to tell you, Little Girl, please listen, I’m not lost.<br />I’m not lost.<br />I’ve only lost my map.</div>
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<span style="color: #3333ff; font-style: italic;">For my friend the Grasshopper who cried all summer.</span></div>
<span style="color: #3333ff; font-style: italic;">Photograph by Bokom.</span><br />
<span style="color: #3333ff; font-style: italic;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-63340995130802744592009-07-19T05:13:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:17:23.709-07:00Hagrid's Parents?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is Hagrid's father.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionYoMI5sDUnIF7ZfyWXizXopNvvAnSj4BneF9salqsxq0sgXYRpSbgOjnYsxSOKgD4mM-i-cbv3uvoQitGG-tPhVIkWNjZkpuF3AZYbRTkOSbJ8el0hUFUsL2m63hFve_NHGJx86kpcP5/s1600-h/180720091875.jpg"></a><br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360147430792728322" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjamooJF6QC3DbOa7A8Um9FCdGu_Lq5-H7PDOWWcFlUsDfaoUIC9Q9_1whBUpir3OWuzgVgckg652uBulOZd4BKehaqZ3Hhj6st657XdVOpDEALGQ_AoaQySMbmH7_qtix-TdfuPCpzexeE/s400/190720091878.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></div>
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And this is Hagrid's mother.</div>
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360146120400351346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVw39F4mVFE1cV61VcH0P-EiBZhfiIvlS8fK7sGlRWBV1qbxPcgqpXlzp_y97gix4qFt-dW5moDpKhq-jkjyXKgup65ByT5hccLjqtfGBsVTRdM-R4Kavexk1qOtSZYndErNkKy2dN_z9D/s400/190720091879.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /><br />
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So riddle me this Batman, <em>How does Mr. Hagrid Sr. get his wife pregnant???</em><br />
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<img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360145456840140786" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPBvwfkNrEGgXuGudqJvDicXkifcPRku4BMxpjsENaalcXg5-Q5S9bjZrRul4sArO-izMDV0Ye-AVosUGU2J_ZrA1AtZsVKgkdKiN4NGbBQobLaphi_nuoaXyOmCehThFoqybPZwdxZ2D/s400/180720091875.jpg" style="display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 300px;" /></div>
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<span style="color: #6633ff; font-size: 78%;">Drawings by LGL, according to scale and the descriptions provided by JKR.</span><br />
<span style="color: #6633ff; font-size: 78%;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-4098651344969522142009-06-26T06:04:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:18:20.407-07:00My First Fireflies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="color: #3333ff; font-size: 78%;">Rejoice, all ye faithful. She has returned.</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsOLIyExUiyq-G9fO6IS0AKKaQ531BqkmAtCmUQHH7MakymWc_zU3exYnp9s5XgdpGDCfp-xqyjr6JG4Nu1Tz7UPIB0OUE3XKbI_2L93pt92wX2zIup6BBu1DJ3en2MiJS2ZSEuLU-0Nw/s1600-h/lake.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351623801157144098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDsOLIyExUiyq-G9fO6IS0AKKaQ531BqkmAtCmUQHH7MakymWc_zU3exYnp9s5XgdpGDCfp-xqyjr6JG4Nu1Tz7UPIB0OUE3XKbI_2L93pt92wX2zIup6BBu1DJ3en2MiJS2ZSEuLU-0Nw/s400/lake.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 282px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff;"><em></em></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">And all of a sudden<br />I cannot see their faces anymore.<br />Though I can still tell them apart<br />By the sound of their laughs.<br /><br />Treacherous ink has leaked<br />From the dying sky<br />Into the silent waters of the lake<br />And has smudged the trees<br />Into shapelessness.<br /><br />From inside the sightless blue,<br />Some people we can no longer see<br />Are strumming a happy song.<br />One of us lights a match.<br /><br />And we notice that<br />A nightful of jaded specters<br />Have turned into glowing cigarette ends<br />Hovering up<br />And down<br />And up.<br /><br />This is when they come.<br />One.<br />Then two.<br />Then some more.<br />Till the tar is speckled<br />With tiny flying children<br />Holding lanterns,<br />Rushing out to play.<br /><br />And finally,<br />Four weary delinquents<br />Get down to the serious business<br />Of making a plan for tonight,<br />In the shower of fireflies.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: #3333ff;"><em>This is for Anik, Joy and Hasi, in memory of a deliciously lazy evening.<br />Photograph- The Lake, Kolkata.<br />Its good to be back.</em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: #3333ff;"><em><br /></em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="font-size: medium;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-92184766228927620342009-06-02T03:53:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:18:49.887-07:00A Clarification, and a Blue Fantasy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Despite the fact that I haven't even started packing my contraband into my secret contraband compartments, and the time for my departure is slowly drawing near, I am writing to clear up a ridiculously embarrassing misunderstanding.<br />
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Several people who have read my <a href="http://amritorupa.blogspot.com/2009/05/holiday.html">LAST POST</a> have written to tell me they hope I have a delightful holiday with Aniket ( of Melody of Dissonance). Some have congratulated me on finding such a great guy. One reader expressed overwhelming joy that the authors of two of her favourite blogs are seeing each other.<br />
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While I certainly wouldn't want to debate the fact that Aniket is a great guy, apart from being a dearly loved friend, not to mention my arch-nemesis, methinks a clarification is in order. I am going on a holiday with Anik, my best friend, lover, and fiance. Anik is a name by itself and is NOT short for Aniket.<br />
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But this idea that Aniket and LGL could go on holiday together has ricocheted, as ideas tend to do when they unwittingly enter my brain, into several Blue Fantasies, of which I am sharing my favourite.<br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Blue Fantasy Scene of LGL and Aniket Goin</span></span><span style="color: #3366ff; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">g on Holiday Toget</span></span><span style="color: #3366ff; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">her<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpFPrMY5ANFPkEVBxRrdec_ztO_OI5gEgJlyM0y86Tm0JxV0iXNIs577D5ozFByNk3UDGVOK0eU95hUDRTTQSbie8tkPJGTeImY4vn35Dk152BJJJ7XzmHGow92f_guDh8PSMldliiVpr/s1600-h/cliff.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5342703940629936418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFpFPrMY5ANFPkEVBxRrdec_ztO_OI5gEgJlyM0y86Tm0JxV0iXNIs577D5ozFByNk3UDGVOK0eU95hUDRTTQSbie8tkPJGTeImY4vn35Dk152BJJJ7XzmHGow92f_guDh8PSMldliiVpr/s400/cliff.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 299px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><span style="color: #3366ff;">He stood at the very edge of the cliff, his face orange in the sunset, his hair blown back by the deafening wind. He turned towards the car and called out- "<span style="font-style: italic;">What a beautiful view, come and see! Such a place is worth dying in..."</span><br /><br />She got down from the car and walked towards him pensively. "<span style="font-style: italic;">I'm so glad you think so, sweetheart.", </span>she whispered.<br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff;">***</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #3366ff;">She sat in the car, nursing the drink he had mixed for her, listening to his favourite CD. He had gone down without a single shout. Proud. He had always been proud. Pride comes before the fall, she smiled as she thought.<br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff;">***</span><br />
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<span style="color: #3366ff;"><br /><span style="color: #3366ff;">They found her at the wheel. Rigor Mortis had done its job and left. She was still smiling.</span></span><span style="color: #3366ff;"></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-80168526542677092222009-05-31T03:08:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:19:29.146-07:00Holiday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty2RMJkfpC4RrpqGmuJVtmmWwk55uEZ3x9AY93HJnBdWvCd3GQqbvVuco7SpeTAd7s3y8OLxuUxxZqljoWEICFsyYlmFBcItNiV5x5LLOBxxS_56KkEJ6dQrOUoRabho81nt4iVh31ah5/s1600-h/Hill+on+foggy+morning-+Dilip+Chitre.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341928601149488082" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty2RMJkfpC4RrpqGmuJVtmmWwk55uEZ3x9AY93HJnBdWvCd3GQqbvVuco7SpeTAd7s3y8OLxuUxxZqljoWEICFsyYlmFBcItNiV5x5LLOBxxS_56KkEJ6dQrOUoRabho81nt4iVh31ah5/s400/Hill+on+foggy+morning-+Dilip+Chitre.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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Anik and I are going on a holiday to the city of our birth. We will spend the first three weeks of June doing things we haven’t done in a long time. This includes visiting many of our dearest friends, loitering for hours at roadside tea stalls, sipping cup after cup of lemon tea near the Lake embankment, foraging for old books in the second hand book market, perhaps catching a good play or a movie, getting drenched in unpredictable monsoon showers, smoking weed on the banks of the Ganga, maybe chartering a rowboat and playing rock bang in the middle of the river, eating too much street food for our own good, getting more body parts pierced, getting high before having to meet uninteresting relatives, getting sloshed in the middle of the day at some disreputable bar, and ambling aimlessly along unfamiliar alleys while languidly indulging in some socio-political debate .</div>
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Among other things, this means that there will be no posts on Rivers I Have Known for the next three weeks. I will, however, be reading all your posts, though I will probably not have time to comment. I promise to be back with lots of photographs, poems, experiences, observations, and Anik-dotes.</div>
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Take care of yourselves meanwhile. Will miss all of you. Will miss Cat’s foray into the world of fiction, Deepa’s adorable creations, Karen’s paintings with words, Sweta’s world-wise observations, Kriti’s plaintive rants, Joaquin’s musical expeditions every Thursday, Goirick’s bitter-sweet nostalgia, Jason’s maggot-kissing photos and spooky psychopaths, Aniket’s sometimes innocent sometimes sinister stories, Anirvan's passion-play with words, Priyanka’s utterly libidinous poems, Crafty’s unbelievely cute crochets, Mahesh’s heartfelt stories, Sawan’s poems that are sweet and sad at the same time, Margaret’s earthy poems, Atanu’s beautiful use of words, Amit Das’s homesickness, Amal’s daring experiments, Arnab's ruthless murderers, Quaint Murmurs’ funnily sad interpretations, Preetilata’s strange way of looking at life, Pradiptaa’s collection of amazingly good poetry, Sucharita’s little angels, Sarmistha’s tongue-in-cheek annotations, Amit's lyrical hindi poems, Smitha’s comments on my favourite books, Kirti’s well-aimed advice in her letters, Shubhajit’s ventures into darker and darker cinema, Sagorika’s sparkling poems and prose, Sakshi’s bizarrely funny experiences, Satan’s Darling’s acrostics, ….’s deadpan humor, Chriz’s very gross and very hilarious essays, Nikhita's bitchi rantings, TFL’s dark tales, Gagan’s love’s labour losts, Cherry Blossom’s photography. Amith’s adventures, SSQUO’s oddities, and all the other magical blogs that I read. See you guys in three weeks time.</div>
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Hasi, Bokom, Shila- am really looking forward to meeting you guys.</div>
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Happy Monsoons. </div>
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Ciao.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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Oh- by the way, because of the recent cyclonic devastation, we have decided to scrap our plans to hit the beach.<br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><em>Watercolor by Dilip Chitre. Photograph of Watercolor by LGL.</em></span></div>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-67946401521909279892009-05-21T05:30:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:21:28.321-07:00A Moth In Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTiAzJKjz1asX9SyeSAH3hStGRc7NMSXci3HeSncszWPAtLQym2W3DnM8a1fi8Y0XU5TRyia1Fd-W5xSN0uvwmf8MEfXxSpJLu4vL5w7IT1VJI6sd0yvWfEsF-6ArTdUOT7o0BLJud3h6/s1600-h/January%2520Moth%2520023.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5338254239366694498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhTiAzJKjz1asX9SyeSAH3hStGRc7NMSXci3HeSncszWPAtLQym2W3DnM8a1fi8Y0XU5TRyia1Fd-W5xSN0uvwmf8MEfXxSpJLu4vL5w7IT1VJI6sd0yvWfEsF-6ArTdUOT7o0BLJud3h6/s400/January%2520Moth%2520023.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 342px;" /></a><br />
A moth falls in love<br />
With a playful tongue of fire.<br />
<span style="font-style: italic;">What is love but death?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com54tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-11493059215820278302009-05-17T04:48:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:22:29.938-07:00A Love Song For Bhati<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_3rfhxYCdh7_dceL78Kvwg2IOFMq4WZpjq4PxqseaskXNVGd4rttST7vGzhG7iQQr8QOj4w7f3OR8OmtJjgP_LRQeZOBkmhZaepZS4g5DT2XrEsYKR8j1oS4QHe9MJgVEiEfoXYmc8_t/s1600-h/bhati.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337431040399369618" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG_3rfhxYCdh7_dceL78Kvwg2IOFMq4WZpjq4PxqseaskXNVGd4rttST7vGzhG7iQQr8QOj4w7f3OR8OmtJjgP_LRQeZOBkmhZaepZS4g5DT2XrEsYKR8j1oS4QHe9MJgVEiEfoXYmc8_t/s400/bhati.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 272px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 310px;" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">Bhati doesn’t know me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">Bhati wouldn’t care.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">He looks in my direction<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">And all he sees is air.</span></span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">His eyes are burning beacons<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">His eyes are so alone.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">As cold as morgues at midnight<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">As motionless as stone</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">Bhati doesn’t know that<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">A bird inside me tries<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">To home towards the beacon<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">Of his lonely, lonely eyes</span></span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">He’s a quiet man, is Bhati.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">But not one you can ignore.<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">In that solemn head of his,<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">Bhati keeps a silent score</span></i><span style="color: red;">.</span></span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: 0px;"></span><i><o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">But I hear a thousand echoes<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">For the words he cannot utter<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">Like he’s at one end of a tunnel<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">And I’m standing at the other.</span></span></div>
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: 0px;"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">They branded him and caged him<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">They rubbed him raw and red<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">They roasted Bhati on a spit<o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;">Till his charred ol’ soul was dead.</span></i></span></div>
<br />
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<br /><span style="font-size: 85%;"><i><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">But I would rain upon your wounds,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">I would set you free,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="color: red;">If you’d only let me, Bhati,</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: 85%;">If only you would see.</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAab8jsCISGwIR5tgzs0F0SGx02WlsNkMmO1Yo_Bpx-FoLobSRKg9dqhZVPmJQn3CeURr4KbULyCxBL7Obv48bEwhoDSWJJC0LOWS1WhyphenhyphenifhxwGvW0sODt5z-NgHpWtC37vwZdgl4KmOf/s1600-h/bhati2.bmp"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336760631012421650" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisAab8jsCISGwIR5tgzs0F0SGx02WlsNkMmO1Yo_Bpx-FoLobSRKg9dqhZVPmJQn3CeURr4KbULyCxBL7Obv48bEwhoDSWJJC0LOWS1WhyphenhyphenifhxwGvW0sODt5z-NgHpWtC37vwZdgl4KmOf/s400/bhati2.bmp" style="float: left; height: 254px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 220px;" /></a></div>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com70tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-90708574761873027862009-05-14T23:11:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:23:10.290-07:00An Acrostic and A Milestone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0qRxZFdfGk51XUuTYP3bBXXn0UOxVg8i62mTWsqfvcej1aPsuAhbS3Q4KT5Pt97d9bz1GpTvM_Be1EwuGR-pKAlZ1f4dCUC4RxfU8_DtgARmGqN17sCBqYzbHDwzSh8EG9qWPsSJlcCn/s1600-h/girl+dog.bmp"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335930062730592210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja0qRxZFdfGk51XUuTYP3bBXXn0UOxVg8i62mTWsqfvcej1aPsuAhbS3Q4KT5Pt97d9bz1GpTvM_Be1EwuGR-pKAlZ1f4dCUC4RxfU8_DtgARmGqN17sCBqYzbHDwzSh8EG9qWPsSJlcCn/s400/girl+dog.bmp" style="cursor: hand; float: left; height: 296px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div>
<strong>A</strong> writer can only<br />
<br />
<strong>H</strong>ope for people to read and<br />
<strong>U</strong>nderstand what she writes.<br />
<strong>N</strong>evertheless, it gives a very<br />
<strong>D</strong>efinite high when she<br />
<strong>R</strong>ealizes that<br />
<strong>E</strong>very single silly thing she writes<br />
<strong>D</strong>oes manage to find a<br />
<br />
<strong>F</strong>ew people who think it’s interesting,<br />
<strong>O</strong>r funny, or sad, or<br />
<strong>L</strong>ovely, or outrageous, or plain<br />
<strong>L</strong>udicrous. So today, this writer,<br />
<strong>O</strong>verwhelmed by her<br />
<strong>W</strong>onderful fortune in finding such an<br />
<strong>E</strong>clectic, weird and fun bunch of<br />
<strong>R</strong>eaders, would like to<br />
<strong>S</strong>tep down and bow in gratitude.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span>
</div>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com65tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-68093706382587846012009-05-12T05:53:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:26:33.326-07:00Twelve Hours With A Highway<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo6_cIO5Rx_Tq5cFEOMttqtZ1ZSMoIw-BX6HX6lkPFxDDVREWqDu2Fj2SCmcfrj9-hI70LrXp2ghF2P0yDdsz-Z-YzXEBo4BnC7-y-lQHRIEVNJoGWKT9-rW1I5g80WyTFiTuBUTfSWV2/s1600-h/10aravalli.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334931720813872402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo6_cIO5Rx_Tq5cFEOMttqtZ1ZSMoIw-BX6HX6lkPFxDDVREWqDu2Fj2SCmcfrj9-hI70LrXp2ghF2P0yDdsz-Z-YzXEBo4BnC7-y-lQHRIEVNJoGWKT9-rW1I5g80WyTFiTuBUTfSWV2/s400/10aravalli.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
There is something emancipating about being in a bus that's doing 140 kms an hour, on a highway that rolls on through deserts and mountains and shrub forests. The place you are leaving behind had no bars, the place you are heading to promises no extraordinary freedom, but still you feel like you are escaping, you are breaking parole, you are rushing headlong into adventure.<br />
<br />
As your bus scurries like a terrified ant in and out of one of the world's most ancient mountain ranges, Gilmour and Wright sing in your ear-<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;">Ancient bonds are breaking,<br />Moving on and changing sides.<br />Dreaming of a new day,<br />Cast aside the other way.<br />Magic visions stirring,<br />Kindled by and burning flames rise in her eyes.<br /><br />The doorway stands ajar,<br />The walls that once were high.<br />Beyond the gilded cage,<br />Beyond the reach of ties.<br />The moment is at hand.<br />She breaks the golden band.</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Every ten kilometers or so, the sky changes from sunny to cloudy to rainy to furiously sunny. The scenery changes too. Sometimes you see fields where mustard will perhaps grow later this year. Sometimes you see villages in the distance, and goatherds sing in some weird dialect as they guide their wards home alongside the road. Sometimes you see a lonely chimney that puffs black smoke into the yellow sky. and sometimes the desert takes over triumphantly, and you see nothing but miles and miles of unfriendly shrubs and thorn flora.<br />
<br />
If you are lucky enough not to sleep through it, you might also get to see the sun set on the Aravallis, and a purple pall descend over the heated desertscape. Then impenetrable darkness, and sitting amidst twenty odd strangers sleeping fitfully, you are left with your own thoughts. You ponder upon the directionlessness of your life, and why everything is so scary, and how things change so fast and never go back to what they used to be, and how it's okay, it's always okay. And they still sing to you, those two, of burning bridges.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Bridges burning gladly</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Merging with the shadows,</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Flickering between the lines.</span><span style="font-style: italic;">Stolen moments floating softly on the air, </span><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Borne on wings of fire and climbing higher.<br /></span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-XNkmiOXCg12Jox8R2efA6fyqRqvU6nCVsg2UgR8kOhGRzEJDepLxhTTDWVZRmZPRoghALD0PY2x7nMnEzOT2KHQ-VF3itvntJ1Ffo1Sz7FZek7KdN-mexOkNUaqdr2XltKxRuEVdDO8/s1600-h/Thar+Sunset.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334932027866470418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-XNkmiOXCg12Jox8R2efA6fyqRqvU6nCVsg2UgR8kOhGRzEJDepLxhTTDWVZRmZPRoghALD0PY2x7nMnEzOT2KHQ-VF3itvntJ1Ffo1Sz7FZek7KdN-mexOkNUaqdr2XltKxRuEVdDO8/s400/Thar+Sunset.JPG" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 295px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 392px;" /></a> <br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: left;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span>
</div>
</div>
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</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com90tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-2376466708845126862009-05-08T06:51:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:29:29.608-07:00On A Wooden Bridge<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEZ7eIXRyjof6T-Vp6Jx8EDx-Zoz8ZredOEMIZAjY42zOOwSqHRYwKr5RsYc_OBfrGTN51t6KleeWF-1Ge58ieft_AKDWAneXNB7ddaCYoI_3DMIxuVuvdwKZ3YMoSXQGko6W5N_GUsXR/s1600-h/monet229.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333450680925480770" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXEZ7eIXRyjof6T-Vp6Jx8EDx-Zoz8ZredOEMIZAjY42zOOwSqHRYwKr5RsYc_OBfrGTN51t6KleeWF-1Ge58ieft_AKDWAneXNB7ddaCYoI_3DMIxuVuvdwKZ3YMoSXQGko6W5N_GUsXR/s400/monet229.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 306px;" /></a><br />
<br />
It's not yet too late<br />
To wash my skin clean of you.<br />
The water beckons.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="text-align: left;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="text-align: left;"> </span>
</div>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com57tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7443649196688123428.post-51682758201119169272009-05-05T00:39:00.000-07:002012-06-02T03:31:35.292-07:00Just Before The Storm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjaLiTGpOEUWkPg-ZSd2Z-Oapj2KYG0TmJxoEhB1eGMCEfKadGNfLJbq_yPsa6HCLnU-6zvmuqBRNG2L7KvujAw61BGeKKPG4Z0FQ13kiFvFZPuwWAfTnZBLuUHiC-jlLTf6ab1g2_9VT/s1600-h/Photo-0202.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332242131323317474" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSjaLiTGpOEUWkPg-ZSd2Z-Oapj2KYG0TmJxoEhB1eGMCEfKadGNfLJbq_yPsa6HCLnU-6zvmuqBRNG2L7KvujAw61BGeKKPG4Z0FQ13kiFvFZPuwWAfTnZBLuUHiC-jlLTf6ab1g2_9VT/s400/Photo-0202.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 300px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a> <br />
<div align="center">
</div>
<br />
<div align="center">
Gray swarms the blue<br />
Like angry bees,<br />
The pregnant skies<br />
Turn into seas.<br />
<br />
The wind, he smells<br />
Of joyous earth,<br />
Of thirsty fields<br />
Bathing in mirth.<br />
<br />
Coconut trees, they<br />
Dance and sway<br />
To welcome clouds<br />
That float their way.<br />
<br />
Birds rush homeward,<br />
Children dance<br />
To the earth and sky<br />
And their new romance.<br />
<br />
Clouds in baritone<br />
Voices sing,<br />
A drop lands on<br />
A heron’s wing<br />
<br />
And then the skies<br />
Start giving birth<br />
Crash down in pain<br />
Upon the earth.<br />
<br />
Blurred and shimmery,<br />
All at once<br />
My world becomes<br />
A cosmic dance.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><em>This photograph was taken by my friend </em><a href="http://bunobhoot.blogspot.com/"><em>Bokom</em></a><em> just before the first of the famed </em>Kalbaisakhi <em>(monsoon thunderstorm) hit Kolkata this Sunday. Wishing all of you a refreshing monsoon</em>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">Amritorupa Kanjilal also writes at </span><a href="http://riversihaveknown.com/" style="font-size: medium;">Rivers I Have Known: Books, Reviews, and More</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px; text-align: justify;">. Please visit her there!</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span>
</span></div>
</div>Amritorupa Kanjilal http://www.blogger.com/profile/05297857308903060458noreply@blogger.com92