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theRooK
NIT, Allahabad
Interests: verse, tech, IMAP
Recent Activity
Over the Phone I brushed my hesitation and pumped my heart Five years of patience was to burst at last I summoned all courage and made my mind A soft prayer once more and called her this time. She was busy attending to her room after a month That neglect had filled as examinations thumped But was keen as I called her and answered swift I heart her soft voice and skipped a heart beat. A monthful of moments I had prepared my speech Of how my proposal should sound proper and cliché But dumbfounded now over the phone by her voice And we talked about a friend recovering in Chennai. We talked of the past, those tuition days We talked of the future, only career sense How could I slip in the prosperous news She spoke so routine whilst I was braying like a moose. Had I been nuts to speak out my heart I hung up my phone after sweet regards A moment of ease and then further uneasiness Deceit, I felt, would kill me further if I wait. So I called again and told her straight I called you not to inquire about that mate But to... Continue reading
Posted May 29, 2010 at Reverberations
[A translation of the Nepali poem, Paatima dhakreko pasharo (Workers Flock the Inn), by Kavishiromani Lekhnath Paudyal] Pilgrim: The story continues, it is the same crowd, the same noise The same envy and fights, the same stories that makes the Devil rejoice. Narrator: Indeed, inns that were built on faith and peace have lost their meaning The same confusion, the same thrills, the same fearlessness of God, the same sins. Pilgrim: When night falls, people bundle in their corner, yet hardly fail to shed their anger There is the same suspicion, the same fear, the same fights leading to danger. Narrator: Last time I came, it was almost the same, this time it is no less Not one built the inn, nor owned by one, yet people keep fighting the same. Pilgrim: People come here to spend a little time, but how much do they waste In fear, anger, suspicion, fruitless efforts of insecurity, haste, impatience. Narrator: Indeed, malice is a dirty worm, likewise it is on Earth We came to live here for a little time, but spend more time on wars (Baseless malice, fear and suspicion to live a little while) Shed these evils, mend your ways to... Continue reading
Posted Apr 21, 2010 at Reverberations
But the master’s face was sad And the master’s voice was low For not once had the men he led Risen against him as his foe He shut his room in disbelief While protests wailed outside aloud And pondered upon the circumstances That had transpired into this dark cloud. The morn was fine, at perfect nine At ten, it began to snow At eleven, when he drove out his car Heavy fog had settled, you know And the roads were clogged at places With fallen trees and ice So the master drove through every turn Very cautiously like the mice. He had to reach before darkness fell Else it would be difficult to drive So picking up some impetuous speed The master placed his car on gear five And enjoying the beauty of the hills As his eyes winced on one sign ahead His car crashed into the pavement And lo, five children were dead. The master tried to rush them fast To the closest hospital in town But alas, it was too late to be The five children were already down And the angered mob stormed his place The master knew not what to do He bundled himself in... Continue reading
Posted Apr 20, 2010 at Reverberations
My first month at St. James' Binnaguri was full of adaptations and activity. Efforts to bring a radical change in myself, compounded by the demands of a new life at a new place... St. James' taught me a lot and I am very happy I was willing to learn. In the first month, we had a class-wise Declamation competition. The topic given was "Faith" The teacher said we were free to use any medium of expression, but it should not be less than three minutes. Of course, everybody had a lot of things in mind, from movies to cartoon strips and what not... In the end, the criteria of three minutes made most of them curtail themselves to essays. There were three exceptions. Sneha Sharma had prepared a movie. Simple theme, no masala... still short of three minutes. But the genius that she was, she added the school song in the end to make up. Then Upasana had a song. It was a poem basically, but after every stanza, she would repeat the first stanza as a pretense that it was a song. So she had three minutes completed. Third (as you may have guessed) was me... I had a... Continue reading
Posted Apr 19, 2010 at Reverberations
I see him sweeping the corridors at school And carrying water up the dorm And cleaning lawns and drying clothes And mashing potatoes in the kitchen. He works in the heat all day long Even starves for a meager income He works, come rain, hail or storm Just works in any condition. Pray, he should be going to school this age It’s wrong, this boy is too young And no matter how much he sweats and works His work seems never done. He has no home or hermitage to go No friends or company in anyone And yet he relents the best of services Not of duty but his own volition. And one day, in exchange for all his duties The mistress hit him hard for no reason I was pricked but could not even speak Disgrace upon my race to witness such action. And only ‘morrow, he decided to leave Although no place he might beckon But with such hard days already seen I’d be sure he’ll manage anywhere firm. With tear-filled eyes, we bade him goodbye And as he ascended the boat on one side Flowers bloomed where his footmarks were And into sunlight disappeared his ride. Who... Continue reading
Posted Apr 18, 2010 at Reverberations
I am running away from myself Building bricks of chaste and defiance Blabbering in my own silence And dreaming of extreme dreamlessness. Conjuring up against my own friends Whilst they may not yet know Lighting dynasties of past and perfect tense To fight all might, fright and forgo. These sedatives of luck and charm Are filling in the veins of my strife These hypocrisies of pain and trauma Are robbing me of the reins of life. I have nothing to be afraid of now This morning brings vipers once again And now call ye St. Patrick once more But this mourning will never come to end. Continue reading
Posted Apr 16, 2010 at Reverberations
Rewind to Days of Innocence, 1997 On one of his trips to explain the nature of our business, my father took me to the Shalimar Paints office in Siliguri that had just automated its work using a computer. As my father settled accounts in the next room, he left me in the company of the manager who was staring wildly at the big monitor I recognized as "the computer" Me: What does this computer do? Manager: It stores all the information about various products we have and in what quantities. Me: My father does that on a simple register. Manager: This computer also has all the important data regarding payments and dues. Me: My father has a ledger diary for that. Manager: We can also store other data regarding meetings and holidays. Me: My father has a planner. Manager: We can send messages and receive them. And come here, we can also play games! Me: How much did it cost? Manager: Around 50,000 rupees + printer 13,000 rupees. Me: 63,000 rupees for a FAX machine in which you can play games in between sending and receiving messages? Manager: Well, almost... Continue reading
Posted Apr 15, 2010 at Reverberations
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This is a story about Sujit, Ajay, Praveen, Naveen, Ashish, Tanmoy, Mitesh, Japranti, Airtel Aunty, Shankar da, Praveen's parents and a hostful of lively people. Any coincidence to real events is purely intentional and real. There's a time in the life of all men when they get an opportunity to count the people who have created a difference in their life. Now I fear if I would ever get such an opportunity (to be counted among one of them) and hence, here I go, not to boast of something I've achieved but to fulfill a promise I made a long time ago. While returning from the tuitions one day, I'd promised SAPNA that I'd never forget the change they brought into my life and hence, here I go. SAPNA = Sujit Jindal, Ajay Srivastava, Praveen Mittal, Naveen Agarwal, Ashish Prasad. read the most notorious group of Science section, St. James School, Binnaguri, ISC Batch of 2007. Infamous for Praveen's antic of blowing up bombs in class to Ajay's incessant flirting et al. This was the group that I spent two years of my life in the otherwise lifeless town of Birpara. And I've no regrets for the transformation they've brought... Continue reading
Posted Apr 14, 2010 at Reverberations
She's silently writing on her desk I'm swooning briskly over mine She's crooning at her outer locks And singing quietly to pass some time. There is a lot of work to do A number of assignments pending But I'd rather think about her And imagine a reciprocity in thinking. She reminds me of all worldly bliss And all the promises I mean But disturbs me from my work What mischief is this girl playing! Is this love that sages preach I am not sure, but guess it is Whatever it may be, it's wonderful Good gracious me, just one wish! Bring word if she feels the same Or it's the other way in her heart No matter what, my love persists And will not die even if we do part. Continue reading
Posted Apr 13, 2010 at Reverberations
I feel the burning heat of day The tropical heat beating down Waves of hot air blowing through The worst summer of this town No electricity to add more salt To the heated wounds of burns The relentless sun takes its toll Soaking blood and breath of its sons The wind that blows brings more heat Adding to the discomfort of all While laziness fills all our hearts Enforced into more study than even fall Lots of melons and a lot of juice Took me to write this poem thus past But alas, if such severe weather continues I fear how long I could last. Continue reading
Posted Apr 12, 2010 at Reverberations
She waves the two locks over her face Then bundles her braided hair in one place And lifts her lazy eyes to look around She's pretty when callous, like the morning sun. She lifts her eyes in childish mischief And stretches her arms like at the edge of a cliff Basking in the sunshine of some unknown love And radiates blushes in violets and mauve. I steal a glance or two from my work Not to embarrass her by watching too much She dances in the air and sings a sweet song I feel like dancing all day long! She passes me by, giving an innocent smile I wish to respond but words stop all the while She may not know, but she has made my day I catch hold of my breath that she has taken away... Continue reading
Posted Apr 11, 2010 at Reverberations
Once upon a time, in an almost Fairyland Lived a dark handsome Prince of Smiles A Rosalind, Romeo & Circuit Bhai into one None the like over several miles. His eyes lit up at every question His smile spread cheer on all face His innocence, ingenuity, incongruous styles Sent waves of laughter all time and space. He read a lot, but did not boast He travelled a lot, from caves to coast And brought happy tales from everywhere No complaints, no fear, only fun and cheer. And he was the charm of the class you see A little wary of Maths, but great at History Add humour to the tale, and bring out the cocktail, A magnificent genius by all scales! Now hence dear friends, pay special interest Since no story has the brightest of days So much to say how Pema filled our lives with joy When he faced the flipside at home, unhappy place. Living amongst muffled cries and heated battles Amongst two enraged mothers and their tickle- tackles, With six siblings fighting all the time Pema had a difficult time all his clime. He would not be able to read or talk No trips without fights from... Continue reading
Posted Apr 10, 2010 at Reverberations
1. Almost died immediately at birth because of premature delivery, thanks to the ice-cream my mother had that night! 2. Ran out of the window on the first day at school, before getting lost. Where is my home!! 3. Switched ambition from Dr. Tashi to Compounder uncle to the priest in the temple to the plumber who fixed our leaking taps, before realizing that my father wanted me to become a businessman. 4. Would have probably been doing some B.Com course in Kolkata and preparing to step into my father's business now, had it not been for my sister’s support. 5. More than 50% time at home still spent in the shop in vacations, even today… Rest 50% time on sleeping and eating!! 6. Used to go for a morning walk to the temple 3 km away daily... Except on examinations and few exceptional days such as School Sports, etc! 7. Had a really bad temper... So bad that people dreaded me for that... Got into fights even with girls! 8. Could do anything (literally) for Puchkas (Pani puri / Pani batasha as called in Allahabad). Even set the record for 50 puchkas (and those puchkas are big... ) at... Continue reading
Posted Apr 9, 2010 at Reverberations
[The script that could not be turned into a movie... Concept: Anshul Sharma "Evil Genius" , Script: theRooK, "me"... Still open to all wannabe directors. Contact for bargaining royalties and other rights :P :P] And just as I became assured My lame foot would be speedily cured The music stopped and I stood still And found myself outside the hill Left alone against my will To go now limping as before And never hear of that country more! Scene 1: [The assassin walked down the empty street slowly, almost dragging himself ahead, with the setting sun right behind him. The bulge of the gun in his pocket can be easily seen from behind. He is dragging himself forward, face covered with hair and pants heavily, drawing huge gasps of breath, as if he’d never breathe again. He fumbles a little and before he recovers, starts having hallucinations…] Flashback 1 : camera through the eyes of the guy. He is looking towards the ground, trying to stand still (blurring and slight fade to black and fade in) We see several blurred visuals of a moderately lit room, lots of shouting and noise in the background, and we see the blurred figure... Continue reading
Posted Mar 26, 2010 at Reverberations
There are many questions in life that you do not want to find an answer... And the only best thing you want to do with such questions is run away from them... You try to bury them in the fleeting past, hide all the reminiscences and pretend as if it did not exist. But the fact that you've run away from the question does not mean it does not exist. You may fool your heart and mind into believing what you want, but when a cut so close to your heart pierces through those locks, you must ultimately bleed such confessions in blog-posts. I was born 22nd February 1989, Siliguri. I grew up in an environment post the 1988 uprising for Gorkhaland. Stifled cries for justice and free run of hooliganism... Absolute unrest... The first thing I learned in class was that we were caged beasts. We try to escape from the worst dungeons, only to be tied to more foul and crafty lies and deceptions... and the deceptions cease to end... A couple of falls here and there, and I could believe in no-one. An occasional remark or a wistful conversation had cost me dearly, and I would lose... Continue reading
Posted Mar 26, 2010 at Reverberations
[From Bhraman, my incomplete novel :P] The train stopped at Katihar Junction. There was another hustle and bustle. The fat lady and the non-sense chatterbox finally left the bogie to seek a cup of tea. It was early morning. I was greatly pleased for that. I rose up and looked hither and thither... A common sight People running here and there with coolies in P.O. Red clothes following; vendors selling fruits, paranthas, tea, coffee, books, snacks and what not... even in these wee hours of the morning; few people boarding the train, some others leaving it in quick succession And the SAME usual noise... I wonder what makes people make so much noise! Probably, it is out of excitement, wonder, fear or something... Maybe their inability to talk when the train is in motion... (Though I doubt that possibility, it was hardly any different five minutes ago... Just that it was one person making up for all this noise and his mouth was probably shut for a minute or two, thanks mainly to the burning tea); maybe the shrill music of the station... Maybe because they are Indians, I thought, Of course, this one comes from an Indian as well,... Continue reading
Posted Mar 11, 2010 at Reverberations
सर्व सम्पन्ने, सर्व गुणी भारत देश महान ज्ञानको खानी, विश्व प्रख्यात महान छ शौर्य र शान | तर विदेशीहरूले गरे प्रहार भंग भयो भारतको हस्त, विदेशिहरुको आजमनले जग नै भयो अँध्यारो भारतीय शक्त त्रस्त-नस्त | शुरू भयो अत्याचारको गाथा, क्रूर साशनले देश भयो कंगाल, मातृभूमिको करुमेय रगतले माँगछ बदलामा पुरुषार्थ हज़ार | उभे आजाद, भगत सिंह, नेताजी, हज़ारो योध्दा --- धीर वीर गंभीर, तर हतियारले अंग्रेजमाथि गर्यो कम नै प्रहार केवल गाँधीको विचार-धाराले काटें विदेशी शीर | बिना खुकुरी, हाथ हतियार बिना केवल लाठीले गाँधीजीले प्रहरी भगाएँ, शब्द- शब्दका आंधीले अंग्रेजका सामना गरी भारतमा उन्नत देशका स्वप्न फलाएँ | तर हाय! दुर्गतीको तिव्रता बरेको देख्दा आज कसैलाई छाटी फातिंजेल हास्न मन लागेको छ, कसैलाई ज्यूदै काटेर रगत पिउने आकांक्षा छ, कसैलाई आखैबाट आत्मा रुने मन लागेको छ | भक्कानो फुत्यो, फर्केका दिन पछि गई सके अब त: अनर्थ को अर्थ पार भई सक्यो, जहाँ जीवन थियो, त्यहा ज्वाला छ आज, जहाँ आनन्द थियो, त्यहा आवेग छ आज | रीसको आवेगमा, मोक्षको खोजमा, निकालिएका हमरा जवान सुन्नमा आएको छ, महाशय, आजका जवान, स्वाधीनताको खोजीमा भएका छन सद्दाम | आजका गाँधीहरु बन्दुक उठाई आफ्ना भाग्यसित लरिरहेछन, परिरहेछन, संसारलाई अफाली हर सम्मानलाई अफाली, आफ्नै स्वाधीनता संग्राममा लरिरहेछन | वीर योध्दा झैं शौर्यको प्रदर्शनी... Continue reading
Posted Mar 9, 2010 at Reverberations
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Just a reminiscent work from the school days... discovered it in the drawer while cleaning it this week at home Continue reading
Posted Mar 9, 2010 at Reverberations
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This will probably be my last post this month... With a week to go before the Class Tests, I reckon the call from Ben G. Streetman and Muhammad Rashid... The CTs will be followed by the Mid-Semester break for Holi, the spring festival celebrating colors and liveliness. Hope to return back with more liveliness and make up for the posts lost in this precious time. All the Best for the Class Tests and Happy Holi! Continue reading
Posted Feb 16, 2010 at Reverberations
From the ‘PR Head’ Gnosiomania: Where knowledge and intellect mingle with sporadic fun. Gnosiomania would mean different things to different people, and it means a lot of different things to me in particular. A lot of Gupshup remains to be shared and a lot of inside stories waiting to be revealed. That can wait. I'll unfold all of them, one by one. This post is especially about the development of some concepts in my field, Public Relations. Gnosiomania 2010 saw MNNIT turn Green and Gold. Students from all walks of life and from different regions of the country witnessed a perfect celebration of human intellect, incorporating social responsibility and the urgency to act as well. But what we witnessed over three days was the culmination of months of tireless efforts and unmatchable preparations. Work for Gnosiomania 2010 started in March 2009. In those nascent stages, during the first few meetings, the first task we had to decide was to justify the tagline that had been adopted in 6 hours of rush: the Seventh Quest. The other task was to find new competitions that would fascinate more students from within the college and take the event to a new level. Another... Continue reading
Posted Feb 16, 2010 at Reverberations
Although personal blogs are no good a place to discuss science and technology, particularly if it does not involve a cheap trick that the juggler on the road can perform, this post on image processing comes as a mark of my respect for images and appreciation of the code behind them. This is my attempt to put the format of an image across, in as simple a language as I can. Let me first confess that I am not an expert in this field, nor do I possess enough qualification to comment on a topic that has been highlighted several times over the internet. I only wish to explain a few technical annotations that plagued me for several days when I started building my code on C to implement a face-recognition algorithm in a generic library. Work on that project is still going on (or is it? :P) but more on that later... Coming back to the subject of this post, according to Wikipedia, an Image is an artifact, for example a two-dimensional picture, that has a similar appearance to some subject—usually a physical object or a person. To an engineer, an image is simply a matrix of numbers indicating... Continue reading
Posted Feb 15, 2010 at Reverberations
Happy Valentine's Day! A day that will go down (and could probably be declared) as the innovative status-message day... Here are a few good ones that I found really cooool: Show some Blogger Love <3. ... Continue reading
Posted Feb 14, 2010 at Reverberations
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It's Valentine's Day eve and although it hardly makes me more romantic than ever, I can only recite a couplet for my Dear Valentine... I miss her and although no gift befits her exuberance and nothing can fill the void of her presence, I offer all my love and bubbles of sweet memories to commemorate this day... BTW, also Happy New Year. (Tomorrow is also the Chinese New Year!) So here are the couplets: Aplomb by the window she sate, composed and gazed below Emotionless, dry and cold, perhaps, waiting for her hero. The market below was busy, no respite in spite of her pain Time went by, those people changed but that look remained the same. A busy day, it had been; hundreds had flocked the place But not one that could pacify the thirst on that beautiful face. And still she sate, numb, naive, but nobody arrived Times have changed, life's gone by, regrets fill my eye. I have excelled what I stood for, but without my Valentine Life's empty, meaningless, disdainful and clandestine. If only I could change my fate, and turn back the wheels of time I would surely wipe those tears from my Sweet Valentine.... Continue reading
Posted Feb 13, 2010 at Reverberations