Trilokda at Goa

The Big Q

The big Q is the scariest thing on planet earth. If not that, it's surely the most annoying, unnerving and puzzling thing that can happen to any mortal. The big Q can drive you mad, away from home, and into hell. It's often stronger than LSD and possess the power to disarm you when you're in complete fucking control. It takes the aid of words like WHY, HOW, WHAT - and conpires to dissolve human sanity. The big Q can come from anyone, the person you love and trust the most or from a complete stranger, and then like bad Boy Band song, it plays on repeat, right inside your head. Cunning, vile and powerful, that's what the Big Q is all about. Try and stay away from it, but know it and know it well - IT WILL GET YOU!

Write to impress

Don't people do just that? Conciously or sub-conciously? Well, that would be debatable. Ask my grandparents and they would sneer at you and look at you bewildered. They, however like every goddamn piece I write. My mom believes I am no less than Mark Twain. And as for my boss, Trilok, I would have done better if I were washing plates in chinatown. Well I say, you write coz you got to write. Get it out of the system. Never make an effort to write, let it flow, as lucidly as Nina Simone's voice. Write a song, write a line, write about stuff, stuff that interests you, attracts you, (girls like that), write a thing or two, maybe write about nothing, nothing at all. Write your heart out, for oft you'll know that nothing's quite as stimulating as pouring your heart out on a piece of paper. Flesh and blood to your thoughts, isn't that what writing is all about? Or is it simply playing with words, no that would be scrabble. Write your emotions down, your imaginations, bring it all out. And all you need is a piece of paper and pen. Not an expensive profession at all. So, whether you write to impress or not, just let it all out. And yes, a little appreciation never did no harm.

18th Feb, 2011 Part deux

18th Feb, 2011

19th Feb, 2011

Let's Design Poster

Morning

Junkie and Shutki

The 'life is like a box of chocolates' moment

It's been a while since I've written anything. It always is 'a while' before I write anything. Is it that life has stopped to interest me? Quite the contrary I would say. Then am I just a lackadaisical retard? Maybe. But then, I rather not discuss my idiosyncrasies. I rather talk about Anandi. Anandi is the youngest addition to the Banerjee-Sen family. She's about three months old and a sheer delight. Bappada(my aunt's husband) and Mimi (my aunt) had to wait a long time for the so called 'good news'. And good news it was. It was a Sunday morning and I was sleeping like a log after a Saturday drinking binge. I woke up groggy to answer the phone which had been ringing for god knows how long. Bappada announced the good news. I went back to sleep without much reaction or excitement. Then, suddenly it struck me. Like a jolt of thunder. I shook myself out of my slumber and called my mom immediately. They were delirious with joy. And I, as usual would miss all the action. What followed was complete mayhem. People from all corners would call up Mimi (a) to confirm the news and (b) to congratulate her. We weren't very far from the excitement either. It was spreading like an endemic. Mimi and I would have long and intellectual conversations about what to name her. From Subarnalata to Champakali, people were relentless in choosing tacky names. Especially my grandmom. But then, Mimi came up with a gem, Anandi - it's sweet, elegant, sexy and catchy. She nailed it and I consented. We were hell bent on Anandi (the name) and Anandi it was. Though we are quite sure she'll grow up to be Andy, thanks to the Anglo-Saxon culture that has inflicted our society, for us she'll always be Anandi, the happiness we were so long alien to. In fact, post Dadu's set back both the families had been struggling for a fragment of joy. Life had become a routine encouter. Anandi didn't just rejuvenate us; she was the source who got us back on the street, alive and kicking. She breathed life into us. All of us.

Westside Radiospot

Trilokda

Maggots

There are maggots in my head. And soon i'll be dead.

Nonsense

When the head is held high and the mind is without fear you can look at the sky and unravel the cosmic mysteries clouding the thoughts of the bourgeoisie or the proletariat or the capitalists or communists or socialists thereby mitigating the great divide which exists in the society and promote metaphysical theories without indulging in scientific anomalies through a little trial and error until error supercedes trial and the world undergoes a democratic manifestation of promoting equality crashing the myriad taboos whereby all the monstrosities maybe obliterated encouraging a drive for healthy and safe sex until one poor old sod sitting in his posh Nevada apartment breathes his last while listening to the songs and poetry of Jim Morrison and P.B. Shelley respectively sipping on pina colada and dreaming the great american dream in the hope of attaining nirvana and meeting buddha in his next life where he might discuss the transmigration of macavity into his wife Stella's body which has decayed over the years not because of age but beacuse of the obsessive cleanliness disorder of which she was a victim while she was still in her formative years dreaming of Che Gueverra and the bolivian diaries that she had seen in her Uncle Pedro's illustrious study amongst a pile of playboy magazines and Mad Comics which were bought from some shady auction in Convent garden when Uncle Pedro was on his sabbatical and was in a frisky mood but with a head held high and a mind without fear.

Words and Phrases...

It's quite intriguing how some people keep repeating or using a phrase or word while speaking. The usage of this phrase or word is quite involuntary though.
Shutki: 'You understand?'
Pushpi: a)...my submission to that is...
b)...it's quite esoteric
Trilok: a)...correct...
b)...jaa taa...
Amitabh aka Bhanuda: ...do a humour number....try the emotional number...let's do a drinking number...'number'...
Aditya: a)...odbhut!!!!....
b) joghanya!!!
Mahato: ..shaaaaaaaatuppppp...
Pradeep aka Dude:....dude....
Sukesh: .....yeah?...yeah?...yeah?....yeah?....
Jogu: ....banchod!!!!...
Mahendra Parab: ...listen listen...
Vijay Patil:....means uhh.....means uhh....
Kinshukda: ...(boderline nasal tone)....maney bhujlitoh...
Mr. Samajpati:....ei shhhh...maney kotha bolona....
Fr. Boris D'Santos:...don't play games with me....
Pratheeb R.: (tamil accent)...ehh madarchod...
Ashley: ...let's bajao it man...
Darpan: what are you sayiiiiiing!?
Well, this post will be updated from time to time as I come across more intriguing phrases or words.

Haircut

For a while nothing has been going right for me. Brazil lost to Holland, money is running dry and then the haircut. Yesterday was a bandh, in Mumbai. Of course it's a common phenomenon for my good old Calcuttans, but a bandh in Bombay is like growing grass in the sahara. Well, it was a good day, no office, humble drizzles, the day was progressing quite normally and I was generally giving myself a shave. Using the electric shaver Manni bought me and then the idea struck me. How about giving myself a trim. So, i started, slowly and carefully chopping little strands here and there, and then I looked in the mirror. I told myself, hey lil guy, this ain't too bad, you can carry on. So audacious as I was, encouraged with the novelty of my electric shaver which even allows you too trim your own hair, went a little further. And of course, voila, quite ingeniously I managed to shave a huge chunk of my hair leaving it practically bald (for lack of a better word). And yes, in order to cover that little patch, I did shave off my hair completely. Manni has a new name for me; Belmundu. And the rest as they say is history!

The Goddess of Chicken Pox

After the doc had confirmed that it was chicken pox all hell broke loose. I was completely panic stricken. Waking up in the middle of the night to check on the ugly lesions which kept cropping up like the spring harvest. The temperature kept rising. With a diseased soul and body, I landed myself in Kolkata in search of that long lost home comfort. And then I heard the story.

Bengalis till date (not all of them of course, but I am guessing a handful of them) still believe or are convinced that chicken pox is actually the transmigration of Goddess Shitala into a human body! (WOW! Bongs can really take their imagination to another level altogether) Hence, you are not suppose to take any medicines or conform to any scientific or medical methods of cure. No bath for a week. No non-veg. If the itching gets too bad, no anti-allergen. No one can wear red in the family. All reds will have to be done away with (you are screwed if your are a Marxist). Your medicine will be a drop of the charana-amrit of the Goddess.Interestingly, a funnily dressed religious quack will come and will do funny things to you with his magic broom or feather or whatever the fuck it is or do some voodoo shit while you lie in bed, helpless. All in all it's a 21 day cycle where you just lie around decaying and watch your family acting like 15th century weirdos.

If you are not ready for this kind of discourse and have contracted chicken pox, do listen to the doc and take the medicines. And plz take a bath everyday.

Zatak Deo Ad

Love for the blame game

Terrorism greeted India a day before valentine's day. German Bakery in Pune burns to ashes. Official body count - 9 killed, over 60 injured.

For once, I'll leave the political debate aside and draw attention to a debate that's going on between three educated, civilised professionals, on Google Buzz, who've made full use of their democratic right of freedom of speech and triggered of the blame game. Below are the posts.

Comment

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Feb 15

amitabh chaterjee - Buzz - Public - Muted

Thank you Sena! Because of your tantrums, the police had to guard the theatres and the terrorists had a field day at Pune!

pan d - the police should get things rities right in life why blame the senaFeb 15

Chitra R - Cant really make up my mind with the SS - they raise important issues (for eg. the MNIK controversy is really a debate about foreign policy) but the real message is lost thanks to the peripheral drama! Also if the SS is really concerned for Mumbai's security, it should engage in democratic debate rather than create potential crises for the city's overburdened police!Feb 15

pan d - The overburden was created by the congress who wants to finish the sena.Why should the sena engage in a debate when the media people only want to hear what they want to hear and then don't give the guys to speak watch the talk shows sir10:33 am

In a nut-shell Amitabh blames the Sena. (how on earth or in planet Zog did deploying cops in theatres made it easy for the terrorists. The question is were any cops specifically asked not to guard the german bakery and guard theatres?)

Pan d shoots back, defends Sena, blames police. (police-the other soft target)

Chitra R blames Sena, defends Amitabh, blames Pan d

Pan d defends Sena, blames congress. (congress!!!! where did they come from)

Were we ever talking about terrorism and the tragedy that struck our nation? Will we ever debate a fight back? Will we ever stop blaming each other?

The Interview

Interviewer: Tell me about yourself.
Interviewee: What about me?
Interviewer: Anything.
Interviewee: (frowns) You tell me.
Interviewer: What?
Interviewee: Anything.
Interviewer: (blink. blink.)