nothing

I've got no deeds to do, no promises to keep
I'm dappled and drowsy and ready to sleep.....

nothing, nothing, nothing. nothing to do. that day someone asked me what we famed JU people do after class or when we have some spare time. with all due apologies to srijani and debo (i know i deserve that kick. i really do), i told him the naked, unflattering truth--nothing. we hang out at monida. that's it? that's it. so what's my routine like? wake up, go to college (this involves a lengthy what-the fuck-do-i-wear-? session) and then--do nothing. we play bridge and gloriously lose by 2000 points. then we wear bridge out and go and sit at monida. we stare at each other. we stare some more. something needs to be done. debo, say something earth-shattering. debo--"ady's play was bad"...we make plans to go to dolly's (our ONE escape route), we create plans worthy of the great KGB/CIA to avoid the avoidable and then bitch about the avoidable. we even crack jokes--"Ma muffed, me miffed"--with saumava leading the way. we accept that the heat has got to us. but miss college? no way!!!! therein lies the paradox. if you can solve it kindly let me know. at least there'll be something to look forward to--other than nothing....

which which is which?

happy birthday!!!!22 fucking years!!!!you're old enough to be married man! on a serious note, do u think u should be serving chicken on your birthday? think about it. anyways, here's a happy birthday coming to you from...um..let's see.. JQ, Stephen, Ronan, Race, and i hope to get the other name ASAP. lol. happy birthday!

thoughts

been a while since the last post. as i used to say to my now-virtually-non-existant diary, i dont have an excuse. just plain lazy. among other things i went to see ady's play the other day. how was it you say? well not bad, considering the only thing i can compare it to is her other play. better script, good music (has the same number of songs as any musical so i was, to tell you the truth, a bit confused as to the purpose of the play. but what the heck, i wont be complaining about good music). and oh, most importantly she wasnt the "one" and the "only" on stage. so tht, i must admit, was a huge relief. but the thing tht got me most was how "real" she was. ok this will make sense only to those who've had long, "emotional" conversations with her. the whole act--crying, "does he love me?", "he doesnt even care enough to ask!" and the crying some more--almost had me repeating my lines in the play. so which which is which? either shes a damn good actor or shes a damn good actor. ahem. anyways enough said and done.

hm...

guess i owe this post to bodhi. thanx to him i got back to "my fair lady" after eons. come to think of it i could actually list that film as one of my all time faves. at least the soundtrack. so here's to one of the songs which i know to be really really real. i do know what it feels like just to be "on the street where you live". i shall not go into details as to how big a fool i made of myself thanx to this song and my own insanity. but on hindsight it was worth it.

I have often walked down this street before;
But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before.
All at once am I Several stories high.
Knowing I'm on the street where you live.
Are there lilac trees in the heart of town?
Can you hear a lark in any other part of town?
Does enchantment pour Out of ev'ry door?
No, it's just on the street where you live!
And oh! The towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near.
The overpowering feeling
That any second you may suddenly appear!
People stop and stare. They don't bother me.
For there's no where else on earth that I would rather be.
Let the time go by, I won't care if I
Can be here on the street where you live.


ps: really really real? huh!? never mind.

a blonde joke

ok this one's amazing http://kevinsnet.livejournal.com/2649.html

French blog

recently i've been getting a lot of complaints about the "french-ness" of my blog. no one noticed milton. everyone saw the french. ah well, c'est la vie. but here's a piece of news for my non-existent french connnection. late night radio france internationale--the music's awesome. and for those not linguistically inclined this might interest you--the sheer number of hindi songs played is seriously not funny. any guesses why?

The Lonely Night

Through the lonely night the train rushes on,
Ceaseless in its haste,
Stopping for nothing, fearing for times of waste.
Darkness blindfolds time's ever-rushing passenger
Pushing it on to the edge of doom.
Cloaks as dark as the hour of midnight
Cover the train as it rushes on through the lonely night.
Suddenly a tiny ray of light awakens the sleeping giant,
A small ray of hope
Bewildering it, only to be plunged into the depths of blackness.
Sleepy stations fly by, human figures fixed by the harsh light
Of the few bulbs strung carelessly
As if daring to defy the dark.
The stark background engulfs it
And before long it is gone, gone forever into the realms of reality.
The train plunges on into the nightmare of dreams.
The stars above look down upon it.
Cold and distant, they know what it is to rush
They know what it is to be alone.
But the moon is not there
Perhaps it is too large, too garishly bright.
Perhaps it is just the new moon.
But the night knows no reason, no logic, no reality
The train moves on, trying forever to escape
The clutch of a hand as cold as death.
It races with time, wins over it.
Only to be defeated.
Only to be plunged into the pall of despair.
Only to be left rushing through the long, cold, lonely night.

me on tv!!!

hey guys, will be on tv for a debate on the 7th evening. think at 7 on bangla ekhon. kinda like self advertising, but wht the hell!!!