The Black Clouds sailed apart and a ray of light penetrated in.The ice had started to melt.The azure started sparkling even more,vying for attraction. The world was not the same anymore.

It'd been a year since Nathan Blake had died,buried into self exile,to escape the series of unfortunate events.But after all the unfaithfulness and disbelief, he had been exculpated,forgiven by the magnanimous almighty.The lord had given him another chance to rise,the right way.

"Life's a Marathon...It don't matter who leads the whole way, winning matters"

"Defeat 'defeat' before 'defeat' defeats you!". But there's a limit to everything.The series of defeats had shattered him."When god betrays,Satan is the messiah"-so he thought

He turns thou into a pessimist.
When you think everything ain't for good.
The demon listens on.
Even when you knock the wood.

Even a superhero like Spider-man loved it when he was engulfed by the evil 'Venom'.Nathan too enjoyed it a la folie... But whenever he wanted to be himself,he never could. Because he had changed.A poikilothermic he had become, a cold blooded fish!, out of the ennui and his milieu.When the drizzle in the city,movie with friends made him feel good and bubbly! he would listen to brutal lyrics the other day to kill the tender feeling.But Nathan had been loved for the former characteristics.

"Um not like them,But I can pretend.
The sun's gone,But I have some light.
The day's done,But um having fun.
I think um dumb,or may be just happy."(Dumb-Nirvana)

But he never felt that way for people.People who loved him,he let them down. "People change for good,even I have"-So he thought!

But he was so wrong!

The almighty equals everything eventually.
But all a devil can do is bury.
Its not about lord betrayal child
but the satanic chicanery.

One fine day,his friend commits suicide.Belonging to the same cabal, the devils laughter sounded again and again and struck him again and again as nightmares. He couldn't take this anymore.He sould clearly see where he would be some years from now.He wasn't a suicidal,but he was considered one.But he was worried about what happened to his friend. He stopped,cried

Before you savour the abject path
and hell slams ,on you, its gate.
Come back to the lord my son!
It's never to late.

Then came some angels in his life...six of them, they drove him out of it.They were here to rescue him. He was finally happy. There it was! the gates...when the devil finally appeared! The red aura in the darkness was the only thing he could see. Then he showed up finally.Nathan was stunned,he knew him,revered him.Yet why did he treat him this way?

In his devilish cacophony he began

"Bizzare is the aberrance of your lord"

Blessed with 10 heads ,the icon of lie and perjury
is the one who praised the lord.
But the one who fought for his mother
Thy son,is still called the Elephant god!

Chennaification!

Frenchman in a lungi
Tries to pick up Tam(il) tradition
People here go crazy coz of Rajini's fascination
And if you've seen such kinda things
It's Chennaification

There are lotta many simple girls
with all these problems in relations
you may think they are sweet
but you cant understand their frustration!
It's understood that Marina beach sells Chennaification!

Parents tell their children
they'll get a Disneyland vacation,
But it is in 'kishkinta' its just a sick creation

[Chorus:]
love the Bessie W****
and drinking 'more'(buttermilk)

Dream of Chennaification
Dream of Chennaification

People flock to the giant complex of CMBT bus station,
Teenage chav smoking the fag looking at journey information,
And buy me a drink at the 10D thing, its Chennaification,

Burma Bazaar's the final frontier but its awaiting its destruction,
And 0- chilled in seconds on the supercool FM radio station,
And Pondicherry's not far away its Chennaification!

Born and raised by those who're into cultural propagation
everybody's been there
and
I don't mean Central Station!

[Chorus]

Shopping at The Spencer gives a good feeling of elation,
But its just car fumes that gives a good sensation
A civilian revolt couldn't save the world from Chennaification

Parents tell their children
they'll get a Disneyland vacation.
But now they go and hit the bar
And hash is what they're craving

THE STUPID BUT MATURE GENERATION OF OURS!

How did one survive growing up in the 70's, 80's and 90's?
We had no seatbelts, no airbags..

Cycling was like a breath of fresh air…

No safety helmets, knee pads or elbow pads, with plenty of cardboards between spokes to make it sound like a motorbike…

When thirsty we only drank tap water, bottled water was still a mystery…

We kept busy collecting bits & pieces so we could build all sort of things … and we were fearless on our bicycles even when the brakes failed going downhill…

We were showing off how tough we are, by how high we could climb trees & then jumping down….It was great fun….

We could stay out to play for hours, as long as we got back before dark, in time for dinner…

We walked to school, or sometimes we even rode our bicycle.

We had no mobile phones, but we always managed to find each other…. How?

We lost teeth, broke arms & legs, we got cuts and bruises and bloody noses…. nobody complained as we had so much fun, it wasn't anybody's fault, only ours

We ate everything in sight, cakes, bread, chocolate, ice-cream, sweet sugary drinks, fruits..yet, we stayed skinny by fooling around.

And if one of us was lucky to find a 1 litre coca cola bottle we all had a swig from it & guess what? Nobody picked up any germs...

We did not have Play Stations, MP3, Nintendo's, I-Pods, Video games, 99 Cable TV channels, DVD's, Home Cinema, Home Computers, Laptops, Chat-rooms, Internet, etc ...

BUT, we had REAL FRIENDS!!!!

We called on friends to come out to play, never rang the doorbell, just went around the backdoor…

We played with sticks and stones, played cowboys and Indians, doctors and nurses, hide and seek, soccer games, over and over again…

When we failed our exams we were given a second chance by simply repeating the same grade…without visiting psychiatrists, psychologists or counselors…

Such were the days…

We had freedom, success, disappointments and responsibilities. ..

Most of all, we learned to respect others…

24^th December 2008

“Is it Russian or Ukrainian?” I asked. My words overtook my thoughts; she smiled artificially clearly showing that she wasn’t comfy with English-“Russian” she said while I recovered from the “Did I just talk to her?” feel. Pinak was delighted to see me sitting next to a foreigner! “Have fun” he said. Meanwhile I heard someone asking for 2-air sickness bags-must be my mom.

The Christmas Eve marked the beginning of our 8-day tour to Kerala. Since I’ve been studying in the south for a while and not being quite fond of it, I was a bit reluctant initially. But the reunion of the best of friends Pinak, me and Anustup alias Peanut (rhythmic to his name), Coconut (due to my hairstyle) and Groundnut (Just to complete the family), made me change my mind

So finally we were off on a 4-hour journey to Kochi that followed a 40 min, halt and then a brief 30 minutes flight to Trivandrum (Thiruvananthapuram). Trivandrum, though the capital of Kerala, wasn’t that impressive. But the smell! I was so very aware of it. All of them around me started mockery about coconut oil and curry leaves.Though they,at the end, regretted lack of space for an extra quarter kilo of banana chips. We reached the hotel at around 10:30 pm when the party had just ended and the DJ was playing the last few tracks to finish off his play list.

“Sorry Sir” said the hotel manager. He was unable to manage a dinner for us. The situation saw some of us cursing “Chatterjee”- the tour planner and some of them cursing Karl Marx and his comrades. Anyway he did manage it soon, after a threat. Tired of the journey, we retired to the bed early that day!

REMINISCENCE OF THE ANDAMANS

Late Mrs. Parimal Dutta

The Andamans ! A group of islands big and small haphazardly arranged almost in a line from North to South in the South Eastern part of the Bay of Bengal was known to us as one of the darkest place full of horror with the bitter memory of dreadful barbaric punishment for the hardcore culprits of our Country. Mostly the victims sentenced for life imprisonment or capital punishment were lodged in this island. The British made these islands habitable with the money and labour of India.

Dreaded and hated by the people at large, few people could hardly appreciate the unbound beauty and wealth that is spread out all over these islands. The serene blue sky, the endless blue waves, the lush green forests with various valuable spices and fertile virgin soil, the beautiful under water coral gardens all are really wonderful that can serve as a heavenly medicine to weary and distressed people of the modern world.

Our earth is dwindling gradually with the progress of science and people are becoming more and more interested in knowing its different places and people intimately. With this end in view, tourism is developing fast almost in all developing countries and various facilities are made available for easy movements of the tourists.

For a long time we fostered a desire to visit the Andamans. We took our visit to this place rather like a pilgrimage as it found more importance to us as the captive land. It is really indistinguishable from the history of independence of India. Port Blair where the infamous cellular jail as situated and where hundreds of brave sons of our land were tortured and punished for life is no less than a holy place respected and worshiped by any one of the true Indians who care to know about the terrible days of our freedom struggle.

Anyway, in the last part of March’97 we started for the Andamans. To save time we traveled by Air. Starting early in the morning Indian Airlines plane took off at 6 O’clock a.m. and landed at the small airport at Port Blair within two hours. It was a very pleasant and comfortable journey.

After taking out our luggage we moved forward to the taxi. Mr. Rao, the Hotel Manager of Hotel Dhanalakshmi came to receive us. Everything went on smoothly and soon we reached Hotel Dhanalakshmi, just at the heart of the city of Port Blair.

In the Hotel we finished our bath, took our lunch in an hour taking a little rest, we were ready to go out. We went to Phoenix jetty first from where we sailed for Viper Island. It was a cruise of unique experience along the harbour in a boat. The panoramic view of the seven points from the sea, the harbour, the floating dock etc. were altogether new and exciting to us. But the main attraction was the Viper Island. It is a small island where there is a small building with a few cells. Doomed victims were kept there before their ultimate punishment. Female victims were mainly hanged in the special gallows, situated at the top of the hillock there. Just at the entrance of the island there is a board stating that the assassin of Lord Mayo was hanged there. At present these all are deserted and preserved only as a memory of the past.

We left the island with a heavy heart. But the cool wind and the blue waves soon wiped away all the gloom from our heart and we came back to Phoenix jetty before it was dark.

Our next destination was water sports complex, a very nice and enjoyable place where arrangements for various sorts of water sports such as speed boat, water cycle, paddle boat, water skeing etc. were available. As it was getting dark all the lights of the complex were on. The whole complex with all the glamourous lights glittering on the

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blue waves gave the impression of a fairy land. A crowd of tourists were waiting there for various sports and a band was playing some joyful music in the circular band stand at the center of the complex.There is a martyrs column at one side of sports complex that bears the memory of the brave tribal people of the island who laid down their lives for their native land.

At 7 pm we went to see the documentary film on cellular jail. The light and sound show on the jail was out of order so we had to be satisfied with the film show only. The documentary film was the past history of the jail. How the jail was built with the hard labour of the prisoners. How inhumanly these people were treated. The highly dedicated freedom fighters were also lodged here with the ordinary criminals and there was no discrimination between these criminals and the freedom fighters. All were treated in the same dreadful inhumanly manner. There was another film on the life of the local tribes, Jaroa, Ongees and Shantinalis who are still in the primitive stage of civilization. It was almost 9 O’clock when we returned to the Hotel and had our dinner.

Next morning we started for Jolly Buoy, a little island with a very nice beach. On way to wandoor jetty we visited the Sippy Ghat Agricultural Farm. The farm with its various plants is a nice well kept garden. Numerous spices plants such as black pepper, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon nutmeg etc. for which India and South East Asia were famous and attracted Western nations in olden days were cultivated here on experimental basis.

We then proceeded to Wandoor Jetty where we boarded the boat “Taimoor”. As the boat started sailing we were relaxed with the cool breeze and the view of the vast dancing blue waves that reigned all around us. The main island of Port Blair was on our left, accompanying us for a long time. On the right side also there was another island. The boat was moving in between two long islands.

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After a two hours journey our boat anchored near a small island without any habitation. There was no facility for going down from the boat to the island. The small island was quite a little away from the boat. So we had to dangle down on a small speed boat with glass bottom which farried us to the small island – the famous Jolly Buoy. I noticed some restless eagerness among all in the boat and soon guessed the cause of it. It was because a wonderful and heavenly sight was waiting ahead of us. As we looked through the glass bottom of the boat the sunlit crystal water of the sea unfolded the beauty of a vast colourful garden of corals, the kingdom of the nymphs – arranged in unimagineable patterns stupefied with the touch of a magic wand into eternal slumber. Innumerable fishes of various shapes, sizes and colours were gayfully roaming about among these. We were amused and enjoyed this rare beautiful underwater garden for sometimes. But we had to get over the attraction of this magic world and hurry for Jolly Buoy proper to join other members of our party.

Reaching there we find all the visitors ready to bathe in the sea. We hired a snorkal to see the under water views while bathing. We had a very good time there for about two hours, bathing and picking shells on the shore. It was quite hot so we rested under the shade of some trees and had our snacks joyfully. Having finished all funs it was time to go back to the main boat batch by batch. Good buy Jolly Buoy. We will cherish your wonderful memory for long long time. We came back to Port Blair at about 2 o’clock in the afternoon.

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Our next programme was to visit Ross Island, the capital of the Andamans during the British regime.

In the morning when we landed on the small jetty of the Ross Island we were welcomed by a spotted deer, who came very close to us and was waiting with raised head expecting to be fed by the visitors. We gave it some bread and fruits. The present government has imported some deer and peacocks to be reared in this deserted island. Once this island was the head quarters of the English government with almost all the facilities of civilized high society life. There were Swimming pool, Tennis courts, Water Treatment system, Bakery, Bazar, Shop, Library, Press, Churches and even a Samatary. The court, the High Commissioner’s bunglow and the church were situated on the top of the hillock from where the sea all around is visible. The main island of Port Blair seems very near. The watch tower of Cellular jail could be seen and its bell could be heard from there.

In Ross island all the buildings at present are shattered totally. The clutches of destruction has spread out its dreadful embrace the form of roots of pipul trees and have gripped all the buildings tightly in various intricate patterns to declare the ultimate end of the British rule.

There a small museum named “Smaranika” where the pictures of the original structures of all the buildings are maintained. The contrust between the past with their present condition is really painful. The present administration has planted quite a large number of cocoanut trees to stop the erosion of land but it is a mistry why they did nothing to protect or preserve the old structures just as tyrannous British government.

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During the last world war the Japanese occupied some of the island and built thousands of bunkers in different islands. We saw two of these bunkers in this island. However, the island as a whole is kept very neat and clean for the visitors and is used as a strategic watching point. While on top of the hill we saw our boat coming back and we all hurried down to return to Port Blair.

Next day, the 1^st of April, 1997 we boarded for Havelock. It is another island 38 km far away from Port Blair and is famous for its long beach named “Radha Nagar” beach. It was about 10 o’clock in the morning when we landed at Havelock. We saw small children going back home in school uniforms. The driver of the bus drove the curious and amused children on either side of the road as we proceeded by the tourist bus to Dolphin Yatri Nibas, the government tourist center there. Within half an hour we reached the Yatri Nibas complex, a very nice, well kept and comfortable place with rows of tent shaped cottages with modern amenities spread over a considerable big space and connected with small coral covered path lined with bricks and flower plants. There is good arrangements for food also. So one can easily stay there for one or two days.

The beaches at the back and front of the complex were inviting us and after putting our luggage in the cottages provided for us we rushed to the beach at the back. Huge trunks of some fallen trees were there and the waves were constantly splashing over these. We enjoyed the water sprayed over us and were soothed by the cool breeze. Soon we returned to have our lunch and got ready to go to Radha Nagar beach.

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Radha Nagar beach is quite a few miles away from Yatri Nibas. We traveled by tourist bus through scattered and thinly populated villages.Havelock is mainly a colony of the East Bengal Refugees. The majority of the population is Bengali who still use their own East Bengal dialect. One can hardly realize that it is far away from the original East Bengal. People here are quite settled and happy. The old generation may sometimes dream of their original mother land but the new generations are quite happy with their newly found undisputed land. The government have provided them with land and job and the virgin soil is also very furtile and bountiful.

It was a very nice ride and we were completely unaware of the fact that we were in an island. The road was very nice and well maintained. The roar of the sea made us conscious that Radha Nagar beach was drawing near. We got down from the bus. There were some tents near the beach. In no time we ran to the beach. The sea was in its usual restless rytham. Big waves were breaking down on the beach creating white surf spread all over the edge of the vastly stretched sand bed. There was no limit to this. We atonce went into the water and enjoyed the sea bath for about an hour to our hearts content. All of us drunk green cocoanut juice, sweet and delicious like necter and were ready to return to Yatri Nibas. At night we had a stroll on the beach in front of the complex. Next morning we got up very early and went to the beach in front to see the sunrise. But unfortunately the sky was very cloudy, so we began to collect sea shells in our plastic bags. But after some time the cloud dispersed and we had a glimpse of the sunrise. At about 6 o’clock we came back to our cottages. Having our breakfast we started by bus for the harbour.

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There was a bazar near the harbour. It was a small village market with local fruits and vegetables. We bought some cardamon and cinnamon from the market and came to the jetty to catch the boat for Port Blair.

It took some time to load the boat with banana and some other vegetables. The boat sailed in time and we saw the coast of Havelock slowly vanishing to the deep blue of the sea. The boat was sailing like a small paper boat on a huge black disk under the hot clear sky. I was looking around to see some sea animals and suddenly was startled by a few flying fish quickly flying a few yards from the bottom of the boat. My long bourne wish to see some sea animals was thus fulfilled by the grace of God.

In the afternoon of March 29^th we went to Corvyns Cove beach. It was a long ride from Port Blair. The road was excellent and we did not feel any strain at all. It was evening when we reached the beach. We instantly got ready to have a bath in the restless roaring water. All members of our party bathed. But it was the youngest of all in the party, i.e. Rick who enjoyed the most. He was allowed to do so as he liked and he made the full use of his freedom. When all were tired we all went to the nearby Guest House to change our dresses.

The”Waves” is the small restaurant attached to the Guest House. We took rest in the garden of the restaurant and had our evening snacks and tea. There is a small colony of the Peerless Company nearby there.

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About 26 km from Port Blair, Chidia Tapu is also a very enjoyable beautiful place. Its spacious beach gives the visitors ample scope of collecting shells. The sunset there was marvelous and after sunset we came back.

The happy memory of the city often enlivens me occasionally. The Chatham saw mill lying on the tiny island connected by a bridge over a stretch of sea water is one of the biggest and oldest of its kind in Asia. The enthropological museum, Samudrika, the marine museum, the mini zoo, marine park, Sagarika, the cottage industries Emporium, Forest museum, Mahatma Gandhi Park, Netaji Stadium, Netaji Subhas Gallery, all these are the chief attractions of the city. Of all these the martyr’s columns in the cellular jail and in the water sports complex are the most touching memories that brought tears to my eyes. The cell where Binayak Damodar Savarkar was kept for ten years revived the memory of those struggling days of our independence movement. A

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page from the history came before our eyes. The stories of those bold undaunted, dedicated freedom fighters we heard from our parents and grand parents took shape in front of our eyes. We could never have thought of seeing these places with our own eyes.

Anyway the most disposed place has now turned into a heaven. It is now a peaceful and prosperous abode for the homeless East Bengal refugees, the descendent of those heros of our freedom struggle. It’s a place where education and medical treatments are completely free, a place where beggars or thieves are totally absent, where problem of unemployment is almost nil. Let the unfortunate rootless people of our country live in peace and harmony. Andaman ! be a boon to them. We will be very happy to see you prosper. We wish all the best for you. Your memory will be ever green in our mind. Adieu.

The Messiah

Waiting, for the seven hours late train, at Mughalsarai railway station with my family, meant an end to the five days trip to the holy city of Benaras I was sitting, among the jingles of the tea hawkers and bored white men playing cards, reading a book on poems specially one by Gabriel Okara which read:

“ There was a time indeed

They used to shake hands with their hearts

But that’s gone, son.

Now they shake hands without hearts

While their left hands search

My empty pockets.

I kept the book aside, recollecting the incident, and thought, “how wrong he is……..!”

Toiling around at the Dashashwamedha Ghat, we posed under a local Benarasi umbrella for snaps, as a normal tourist would do & unaware of where to start our trip with. We decided to take the help of a local tourist guide.

Asking here and there for one, we asked a person who just stepped out of a public telephone booth. The man – shaggy, shabbily dressed, his pants reaching under his heels introduced himself as Harihar Gupta in a typical Banarasi tone , chewing on a paan , quite evidently an old resident of the city. Convincingly, he said that he would do it for us.

Quite hesitating we fastened our belt and followed him. I was then 12 years, sat with him in an individual rickshaw .My father soon replaced me as there were lots of kidnapping cases in the headlines, quite naturally as he was a stranger and we were here for the first time.

A bumpy ride in the rickety rickshaw through the claustrophobic streets with the aroma of the famous sweets and paan masala filled my lungs, reached the house without having the slightest idea of what’s going to happen.

Four days gone and we wouldn’t have had a better trip as he systematically made all arrangements for us like a professional guide, before he left for his saree factory where he was employed.

Each and every action of his was like a generous person, which sometimes raised more suspicion about him of having some bad or ravenous intension behind the whole act.

But after the whole trip when he never asked for any remuneration or insisted us for any other thing not even a product of his factory, we felt ashamed of our selves of suspecting an unintentionally generous man like him. Thus on the last day of the trip we bought some token from his factory, out of gratitude.

I still remember the last line he said before leaving us – “I never know what force drove me to you, it seems like we are linked through ages.”

My father still talks of him when people argue about the world filled with materialistic and self-centered people.

THE BLOODY TWILIGHT
The pathway to hell
The dreaming dead watches in despair
Pondering with his senses still numb
The bloody twilight is here

For the darkness to propel
The good gods weal away of fear
The evil gets off his chair
Just because the bloody twilight is here

Off go the fatalists
In the Satan’s lair
The frenzy green fields freeze
For the bloody twilight is here

Here comes thy glory
It’s time for our fair
Come out all nocturnal beings
The bloody twilight is here