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The performer's spell.

kolkata, clouds, tank, top, dum dum park
Anirban Saha Photography
The scorpions sung of it,the owlcity hummed and we the spectators drink through our eyes in awe of it.The performer's charm casts a spell on us.We leave the lantern of the repertoire burn through our minds even after it's over.The photograph reminds me of what martha graham confabulated,"There is a vitality, a life force, an energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all of time, this expression is unique, Keep the channel open..No artist is pleased". Well even though we march ahead in time and in glory the thrist of any performer or an enthusiast never is satisfied.There is only a blessed unrest that keeps them more alive than the others.Every posture,every expression that draws our conscience to focus on and sometimes drives into a trance.We might call these artistes personified fireflies who shine till they touch the incinerating robi thakur sings, mesmerised by a "nrityabhinay" :

"amar ghur legeche tadhin tadhin..tomar pichon pichon neche neche..ghur legeche tadhin tadhin..
tomar taale amar choron chole,shunte napai keki bole...tadhin tadhin..tomar gaane amar prane je kon pagol chilo..shei jegeche --tadhin tadhin...
amar lajer badhon shajer badhon khoshe gelo bhojon shadhon..tadhin tadhin...bishom nacher bege dola lege bhabna joto shob jegeche..tadhin tadhin--"
Rabindranath Tagore(bichitro porjay)

Post written by: Atmaja Santra

The Perfect Feeling.

Melancholy is an irresistible poison.

So Beautiful.

So Sweet.

So Addictive.

The more we feel it, The pain lures us, Gives us pleasure.

A pleasure so new, So amazing.

That it leaves traces within your heart even after it is gone.

Melancholy is like whiskey for the person with a hundred dues to pay , it rolls down your throat to rejuvenate the pain.

Melancholy is like a reliever, for a person with many miseries.

As the miseries can only be understood, If only, Melancholy is buried deep within us in times on distress and pain.

Ah! Melancholy! You're the best thing existing within me.

So perfect, So meaningful, For if you weren't there, The reasons to sorrow I wouldn't have been able to see.

P.s- Dont Worry Folks! This isn't related to my life in any way right now. Its just a random piece of writing, written during my ridiculously long Summer Vacations. :-)


Shoes! Bags! Jeans! Jackets! Scarves! Glares! Make-up! Dresses! Dresses! Shoes and Dresses!

Is it just me, or are you people really trying to make me jump up and down and scream
my lungs out until..just until someone comes up to me and pays me enough to shut up? So
with that money I can travel to Paris, to London, to New York and buy all the dresses and shoes and make-up I see Blake Lively, Leighton Meester, Paris Hilton, Mila Kunis wear, and become as beautiful and adored and loved as them?

Oh, look at those Louboutin shoes, those Gucci bags, those Chanel dresses! How beautiful.
How pleasing to the eye. Much better than summer's first rays of sunshine.
I envy those faces that adorn Inglot's make-up, those legs that wear the most glamorous
stockings. Believe me if I were a little more richer, I would buy the chicest clothes,
travel around the globe and be the most envied one around.

But I shall try and be content with a few Mango and Promod and Chemistry dresses, a few
pairs of Catwalk and CnK shoes, three or four glares from Idee and Aldo and junk and
jewellery and bags and make-up from MAC and The Body Shop and Accessorize and more.
I will try, I said. I will try to satiate my insatiable desire to shop and own the most
coveted dresses.
But how? How can I try with these perfectly shaped and gorgeously dressed women around?
I can't. Because when I come across them, I am nothing but awed and all I want to do is want to be one them at that point of time!

They say that beauty never lasts, it fades away in time. They say that beauty comes from
within and not what is seen outside. They say what we wear, what we hold is not what matters
but what lies deep in our hearts is what speaks at the end.
But tell me, would any of any of you choose a simple life with bread and butter and shabby
clothes and a kind heart over money, fame and glamour and the life we all dream of?
You wouldn't. We are not saints here. We are selfish creatures who would go to any extreme
to get what we want. And it is not a plain, simple life of monotonous satisfaction. It is
euphoria and deep despair, laughter and the piercing pain that we crave the most.

So, masochistic little souls, no matter how perfect and convincing you might be at being a hypocrite and saying you'll choose the former, I'm just not willing to believe you.

The Assassin who wore a Leather Tie!

'It was a pain. Honestly, cant these flights ever be on time? First we have some silly volcanic eruption which disrupts thousands of flights, and now pilots going on strike. What next? A so called hijacking attempt gone wrong?' These and other thoughts raced through Ajay’s mind as he waited in the Indian Airways airport lounge in Delhi. He had to catch a flight to London which was supposed to have left 3 hours back. Clearly, patience wasn’t Ajay’s best virtue, and sipping diluted coffee stranded at an airport lounge wasn’t his favorite way of passing time.

Finally after Ajay had finished reading the Times of India twice, he decided he had enough. He would go and file a complaint. After all, he was Executive Manager of XYZ Labs, and had a considerable amount of influence, at least in the corporate world. These fools don’t know the meaning of management. Otherwise what else could explain the fact that the airline was making losses amounting to millions of rupees. But just as he got up from his not-so-cozy seat, his eyes caught a rapid movement to the left. It was a man, Caucasian, middle aged, well built, and dressed impeccably in an Armani suit. He took an empty seat, brought out a text book from his bag, and started writing something. Ajay noticed that he wore a peculiar looking tie, which had small symbols scattered over a golden color.

Curious, Ajay turned towards the stranger and asked-‘Excuse me sir, are you going to London as well? Flight 7643?’ The stranger gave Ajay a quick glance, nodded and went back to his work. Ajay was a bit taken aback, as he was not used to being ignored. He reminded himself that the man sitting in front of him wasn’t his subordinate. Ajay tried a different tactic-‘Sir, what brand is that sophisticated tie which you are wearing? I am not sure if I have seen it before.’ ‘You could not have. Its still a Beta phase product. Not launched for your common consumer yet.’ The man’s voice was husky and sharp. Before Ajay could reply, the man carried on, ’And yeah before you ask me any more silly questions, the tie is made of leather.’

That shut Ajay up. He was furious but somehow he could not find the guts to speak out in front of this man. And for some reason he could not explain, he felt nervous too. Nevertheless he was not someone who would back off that easily, especially while challenged.

‘So sir, what work do you do? And where?’ Ajay did not know why he was addressing that person as sir.

‘I am an Assassin. And I am afraid I cannot disclose my Group’s identity else I would have to kill you. And I do not want to do that, yet.’

Ajay was astonished at first, but soon recovered.

‘You are quite funny, Mister. We could use some of your humour back in our organization. Nice way to spice things up quite a bit, isn’t it? And please don’t say that Indian food is spicy. I have heard that millions of times.’ Saying this Ajay forced a laugh, but ceased it almost immediately after glaring at Mr. Assassin’s eyes.

‘That was not a joke. My profession is to kill people. Whether you believe it or not is upto you. But as of now, kindly do not disturb me. I am, as you can say, busy with an important assignment.’

Ajay felt that the joke had gone too far.

‘All right Mr. Assassin, we will play by your rules then. Tell me something about this assignment of yours.’

‘Fine, if you insist. My next target happens to be a politician or MP as you can say. He shall be campaigning in London tonight. My reports suggest that the man is a scoundrel, corrupt and rotten to the core. He is involved in several underhand illegal activities, including gambling, drugs and prostitution. It is imperative that he is removed immediately.’

‘Erm, so are you some kind of a Daring Robin Hood, who kills the evil guys, some self proclaiming judge of mankind?’

‘Not at all. I merely follow the orders given to me. The identity of the victim does not concern me at all. Whether he is good, bad, rich, poor, ugly, white, black all that is irrelevant.’

‘So how do you kill people? Do you use some advanced weapon? Maybe a silenced pistol or something? But you cant sneak that inside the airport can you? Which means I am pretty much safe,’ Ajay smiled.

‘I take it that’s your sense of humor. Well I am afraid the truth is far from it. For instance, this special plastic pen that I am holding right now can deliver a shock of 440 Volts which in enough to incapacitate you instantly. And without making much noise too.’ The man pointed his pen at Ajay, which was enough for the Manager to jump back in fright.

‘And there are other ways. Like poison for instance. Quick and efficient. Ever heard of Tetrodotoxin? It’s a potent neurotoxin with no known antidote. It quickly shuts down the nerve cells. Death is quick and painful. And I happen to have a certain amount of it with me right now.’ Saying this the man brought out a packet containing some powder and showed it to Ajay. And smiled. It was an eerie smile.

By now Ajay had began to panic. Was it possible that this guy was indeed telling the truth? No it was not possible, he consoled himself. The Airport security would have dealt with it. But this guy was clearly a professional. Could he have somehow sneaked in without being detected?

‘Well I know what you are thinking. Don’t worry, you seem to be a nice guy, I won’t kill you, yet

Before Ajay could reply, there was an announcement,’ This is to inform all passengers that Flight 7643 is now ready to depart. Please proceed towards Gate number 5. Thank you.’

‘Ah that’s our flight. Lets go now, I don’t have whole day to waste, and I assume neither do you.’

Ajay could only mumble, as he somehow stood and staggered towards the departure gate. Just as he thought he would get a mental breakdown, someone thumped him on the back and cried-‘Oh there you are Ajay. I have been searching for you for quite some while. And your mobile is switched off too.’

Ajay turned around to see his boss, Mr. Chakravarty stand behind him. And standing besides Chakravarty was the Assassin. ‘Oh I guess I haven’t introduced you to Mr. Jacobs of FutureWare Analysts Corp. He had come to India to take a note of our daily exports. Quite a nice guy. ‘

‘Oh’, Ajay moaned. ‘Nice to meet you, Mr. Jacobs.’ He extended his hand, which was shaking.

‘The pleasure is all mine.’ Jacobs shook his hand and smiled.

The Following day:

‘God that was one crazy experience. And to think I actually believed that I was talking with an assassin.’

Ajay lay on his bed in a luxury hotel in the London suburbs. Well, lets see what the London papers have to say, as he opened the Daily Telegraph.

‘Reputed Politician killed in a mysterious car crash. Police suspect foul play.’

Ajay’s heart sank.

The End.

Planet Of The Creative Souls

Some days back I was not feeling good,creativity was lost somewhere.So I decided to travel back in time and live some moments again.I took my camera and moved out of my house.I visited every place I remember me and my friends used to visit together.Clicked some photographs,went to the seaside restaurant we used to visit and many more places.Why I am sharing this photograph particularly is because this place is very special for me and my friends.This place is what we call Planet of the Creative Souls.This is the land of art,a place where hundreds of artists used to gather and do fun stuff.This is my animation college.Yes this beautiful place is where we spent 3 years together.We used to sit anywhere we want and start sketching and painting anything we like.The first 1.5 year of our course was for 2d only.That means only sketching and painting,no digital work.So when I visited this holy place again I was recharged,recharged with creative energy.I feel much better when I see pure creativity around me and what could be a better place than "Planet Of The Creative Souls".  :D
Photo- © Abhisek Panda Photography®

Abhisek Panda
About the Author :
He loves challenging the concepts of others & that invariably leads him to create his own ideas and to pioneer new lines of thought.He Writes about Film,Art,Poetry,Stories and Personal views on things that matter.A Filmmaker,a Photographer,a CG Artist,a writer and Blogger.Music and Book Lover, curious about web design and development.He is the founder of "WE HAVE A STORY" and many other blogs and websites.

Day 1: Hope.

"Congratulations! It's a girl," were the first words I heard.

I suddenly realised, that I was there. I had finally entered this completely new and extraordinary world. A world utterly different from my previous ones. A world where pandemonium reigns.
I was warned - before my soul was inserted into this human being's body - that this life would not be an easy one. This life knows love, hate, pain, tears and blood. This life is The Ultimate. The ultimate before our transferring to any one of the Real Worlds: Hell or Heaven.
If we choose to give up and prove ourselves incompetent, we will be sent to Hell, where there is nothing but hatred and turmoil. And if we choose to live till the end, overcoming all the obstacles and harshness of life, strive and never give up, we will be sent to Heaven, where a better end lies. Where love and purity reigns.
This is the last chance I will get. If I don't act accordingly, I will be for ever damned. I don't deserve damnation, because in all of my lives, I have been perfect. I can't afford to mess it up. I'm just praying I will get through this one, and attain absolute salvation.

A few more seconds and all the memories of my past life will be wiped off. This happens at the beginning after every ending, so that we can start afresh and struggle blindly. Why this suffering from amnesia at the starting of every new life is needed, escapes me.
God, you really are a sadist. You do nothing but make it more difficult for us to go on.
Ah, my last ten seconds.
This new world full of unique, breathing, sentient creatures, accept me. Know me.
I believe I will be accepted. I feel I will be loved. I hope I will make it.

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