Nothing is Blue-review




 (This review is in courtesy Swapnesh Banerjee)

Fictional novels based on certain historical episodes or contexts and trivia have carved out their own niche in the literary genre in recent times. The most famous instance probably is The Name of the Rose. Closer home, Saradindu Bandypodhyay has enriched this area with his inimitable creations in Bengali, though it is rather surprising that the total literary output in history based fiction does not match the scale and complexity of Indian history. In this context, Biman Nath's novel goes a little way in redressing the balance by acquainting the reader with a slice of our buddhist past in the form of an interesting fictional narrative.

    The story primarily deals with the experiences of Ananda, a monk who comes to Nalanda from Bengal in order to study the scriptures at the most exalted Buddhist seat of learning. The order characterising the sangha system of Buddhism with its strict rules and monasteries is showing signs of brittleness, and is being undermined both from without and within. Sections of monks have become deviant, a fact which Ananda discovers from a source too close for comfort. Ananda himself is not a typical bhikshuk wedded to the monastery and its ivory towers. The rigors of monastic life has not stripped him of his sensitivity or emotions, and this is reflected in some of his apparent indiscretions of thought,. He is subject to the same urges as a normal young man, and his interaction with a young widow in a neighbouring village underscores the fact that the mind does not always rule his heart - though his focus in the end does not waver from his life's mission. Even in this interaction which starts out as a more elemental level than he himself would be comfortable with, Ananda shows his humanism and comes out with dignity. However, this  willingness to let himself explore the world more than allowed by the constraints of the monastery leads to his ability to consider and research ideas other than the established truth, In this context, he devotes his energies to finding out if the current calendars based on astronomical theories and observations are correct, the veracity of which would overturn the entire calendar of rituals in India. The disputed point in question is about the precession of equinoxes, which was been vehemently denied by the prevalent school of thought. His life takes a more significant turn however, as he becomes an attendant to the visiting Chinese Buddhist scholar Huen Tsang, and he soon graduates to being a favoured intellectual companion to the foreign bhikshuk. He accompanies Huen Tsang on his travels in India and stays back in Ujjain to learn about astronomy and mathematics from Brahmagupta, and more importantly attempts to find out about the researches of Khona, a lady mathematician from Bengal who was condemned for her attempts to usurp the powerful Varahamihira, many years ago. The character of Ananda rivets us and holds our attention throughout, for though his world is far removed from ours, we recognise in his travails and experiences parallels to our own lives, and indeed the foibles and challenges that we ourselves face in our modern world.

    Dr. Nath has indeed woven the tale quite skilfully and the twists and turns in Ananda's life juxtaposes well with the turbulent times through which Buddhism itself was going through - indeed in a way Ananda's life is a representative microcosm of the larger turmoil. The primary thread is about Ananda and different strands weave in and also disentangle with the main thread with a simplicity and ease that makes it an interesting narrative to read. However, this book is not a traditional historical 'whodunit', indeed people thrilled by bodies appearing at regular intervals will be disappointed from that angle. It weaves an intriguing tale but the intrigue is at a level broader than a set of individuals, though it is developed through the twists and turns in the life of its primary protagonist. This book paints a vivid picture of life in Nalanda in its last glory days, and as we follow Ananda in his formative years, we are slowly immersed in a world removed from us not only by the passage of the centuries but also from a cultural and more material aspect. In fact one of the key takeways from a novel set in a certain historical period would be a feel of those times, and the author succeeds in communicating to the reader a very real sense of life in Nalanda in fine detail and also uses somewhat broader brushstrokes give a context of life in eastern India. A significant aspect of the book is Huen Tsang himself. Though he does not play any dramatic part in the book (apart from a couple of philosophical debates) - his is a towering personality which encompasses the entire story. The author paints a word picture of the great Chinese traveller adroitly throughout the book and the reader is given enough nuggets to reconstruct the personality through his wisdom, learning, his puritanical attitude as well as his genuine affection for Ananda. We get the sense of man driven by his purpose of acquiring wisdom in the ancient Buddist religion and carrying with him those seeds back to his native land so that he can watch it sprout and grow in his own care, but who still retains his core simplicity and compassion even after his extensive adventures and travels.

    A note about the general structure and language of the book. One thing that strikes you is that the language complements the theme quite well. It is not overly ornate or lyrical, but has a certain richness which does grow on you. Metaphors, especially in description of certain natural features are quite pleasing, and some of them indeed do correlate very well and shows the author's command over this difficult construct. The overall impression you get is that of a style of writing that is not so profusely descriptive as Umberto Eco, but does enough in a rsoothing way to construct rather detailed impressions of the world he is trying to describe. Nothing is Blue similary does very well in providing skilful descriptions of diverse things - rather like pieces of cloth that is woven into the overall rich tapestry and I rather like this approach than having large paragraphs or lyrical passages devoted to aesthetic accounts. Nothing is Blue is a book that has a nice flowing language which dovetails very well with the style of storytelling and is an aspect that should be appreciated.

    This is the author's first literary production in a fictional novel form, as I understand. From a purely personal point of view, there are a few areas that I would like to point out where I felt that it could have been handled differently. In a way the story's rate of progression is bit skewed in my view. It starts off sedately and the reader is lulled into the world of Nalanda via Ananda and then later introduced to Huen Tsang. This theme is worked and expanded on for more than half the book, even as the reader is titillated with a sense of more dramatic events that are about to unfold. While this works upto a point, there is a feeling of expectation being a bit let down as you reach the middle stages and a bit beyond that. After that it picks up speed and then becomes more interesting as it approaches the end. In fact as you finish reading, you just get the feeling that it ends just a bit abruptly, it is as if you have savoured the starters and the main course which have exceeded your expectation but feel a bit let down in the dessert. In particular Ananda's friend (who is part of the deviant monks) is developed as an interesting character who could have had some more possibilities. Also the astronomical question that is posed is quite intriguing, and develops well in the later stages. However, it does not roll forward to a very satisfactory conclusion and leaves the reader (at least me) wanting more. Given the fact that the opening half starts off in a langorous fashion and the complexities involved in the whole storyline, another fifty pages would have been very welcome!

    All in all, Nothing is Blue is an intriguing novel which delights and surprises in equal measure. The historical context and characters provide a vivid backdrop to a well articulated storyline that keeps you wanting to both savour the current page and go onto the next one. It illuminates a portion of Indian history that is rather smothered amongst all the battles and king-lists and the author needs to be commended on choosing such an eclectic yet interesting landscape to base his narrative on. The short epilogue and appendix adds on to the authentic feel of the novel and reflects positively on the author's erudition in this topic. In these days of frivolity and superficiality, Nothing is Blue is a refreshing novel as it winds its way amongst the vistas of our ancient land and in the process produces a story that is compelling and an excellent read. Go out then, buy it and spend a couple of afternoons curled in your armchair with it. Trust me, you would not be disappointed.

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Bengali men have to got through hard times

Indeed, Bengali boddyolak have a hard time...my brother just told me why...

To Chhoton, Bulbul, Khoka, Laltu, Gogol, Babu, Buro, Tutu, Bubu, Ghoton, Bhutan, Chhotka, Shanto, Bubai, Tubul . . . et al.
Here is an attempt to alert people to a great injustice that is being perpetrated upon the sons of Bengal.

When a son is born into a Bengali household, he is gifted with a resonant, sonorous name. Bengali names are wonderful things. They convey majesty and power.

A man with a name like Shushmito, Shamrat, Samudro, Rudro, Prokash, Indrojeet, Shurojit, Proshenjit,  Bishshodip, et cetera, is a man who will walk with his head held high, knowing that the world expects great deeds from him, which was why they bestowed the title that is his name upon him.

There are five rules for creating nicknames, which need to be followed. They are:
1.       Nicknames must have no connection to the real name. Orunabho cannot be called Orun. No, for that would be a logical, and such thing is anathema in the world of women. Instead he shall be called BHOMBOL. If possible, the nickname and real name must have no letters in common, but an ancient alphabet proves to be the constraining factor there.

2.       Nicknames must be humiliating to the power infinity.. If you are a tall strapping boy, with a flair for soccer, an easy charm and an endearing personality, then you shall be nicknamed - Khoka. And every time, you have set your sights on a girl, and are on the verge of having the aforementioned lass eat out of your hand - your mother will arrive and pronounce loudly - "Khokon, chalo". The ensuing sea of giggles will drown out whatever confidence you had earned from that last winning free-kick.

3.       A nickname must refer in some way to a suitably embarrassing incident in your childhood that you would give your arm and leg to forget. If it took you a little too long to shed your baby fat, then years of gymming will not rid you of the nomenclature Motka. If your face turned crimson when you cried as a toddler, you will be called Laltu. When you turn 40, your friends' children will call you Laltu Uncle. Even age will not earn you the right to be taken seriously thereafter.

4.       Different members of the family will make up different nicknames each more embarrassing than the preceding one. If one member of the family calls you Piklu, then another will call you Pocha, and another will call you Ghoton. The humiliation multiplies.

5.       You will always be introduced by your nickname until people forget you had a real name. Ranajoy might have taken on a gang of armed men single-handedly, but Tatai really didn't have a chance. After a point, Tatai will completely take over the beaten body of Ranajoy, weighed down by the pressure of a thousand taunts.

This strategy is surprisingly effective. Ask yourself - would you take Professor Boltu seriously? Or put much weight by the opinion of Dr Bubai? Or march into battle under the command of General Topa? The power of the nickname has scarred the psyche of Bengali men everywhere. It follows them like a monkey on their backs. That too, a monkey with a flair for slapstick, that was gifted to them by their own mothers, aunts and grandmothers.

Two movies set in two different worlds

Comparing movies is tough when it comes to portraying a child's innocence....
inspiring it can be, moving it should be, but a child's smiling face is something we love to look at....I saw the trailer of both and I am looking forward to see the movies....but for now, this is all I got to share with you.

Children of Heaven




The inspired Hindi Movie Bam Bam Bole


Lyrics in English of Por Una Cabeza (By The Head of a Horse)





Losing by a head of a noble horse
who slackens just down the stretch
and when it comes back it seems to say:
don't forget brother,
You know, you shouldn't bet.

Losing by a head, instant violent love
of that flirtatious and cheerful woman
who, swearing with a smile
a love she's lying about,
burns in a blaze all my love.

Losing by a head
there was all that madness;
her mouth in a kiss
wipes out the sadness,
it soothes the bitterness.

Losing by a head
if she forgets me,
no matter to lose
my life a thousand times;
what to live for?

Many deceptions, loosing by a head...
I swore a thousand times not to insist again
but if a look sways me on passing by
her lips of fire, I want to kiss once more.

Enough of race tracks, no more gambling,
a photo-finish I'm not watching again,
but if a pony looks like a sure thing on Sunday,
I'll bet everything again, what can I do?

Colorblind- Darius Danesh

 
 
Feeling blue
When I'm trying to forget the feeling
That I miss you

Feeling green
When the jealousy swells and it won't
Go away in dreams

Feeling yellow
I'm confused inside a little hazy but mellow
When I feel your eyes on me

Feeling fine, sublime
When that smile of yours
Creeps into my mind

ohhhh.....

Nobody told me it feels so good
Nobody said you'd be so beautiful
Nobody warned me about your smile
You're the light
You're the light
When I close my eyes
I'm colourblind
You make me colourblind

Feeling red
When you spend all your time with your friends
And not me instead

Feeling black
When I think about all of the things that
I feel I lack

Feeling jaded
When it's not gone right
All the colours have faded
Then I feel your eyes on me

Feeling fine, sublime
When that smile of yours
Creeps into my mind

mmmm....

Nobody told me it feels so good
Nobody said you'd be so beautiful
Nobody warned me about your smile
You're the light
You're the light
When I close my eyes
I'm colourblind
You make me colourblind

Blinded by the light you shine
The colours fade completely
Blinded by you everytime
I feel your smile defeat me
I'm colourblind
I just can't deny this feeling

Nobody told me it feels so good
Nobody said you'd be so beautiful
Nobody warned me about your smile
You're the light
You're the light
When I close my eyes
I'm colourblind

Nobody told me it feels so good
Nobody said you'd be so beautiful
Nobody warned me about your smile
You're the light
You're the light
When I close my eyes
I'm colourblind
(your the light
your the light
when i close my eyes)
You make me colourblind

(your the light
your the light
when i close my eyes)
you make me colorblind

(your the light
your the light
when i close my eyes
i'm colorblind)

(fading)
nobody told me it feels so good...

Dooriyan-Love Aj Kal

Yeh dooriyan
Yeh dooriyan
Yeh dooriyan
In raahon ki dooriyan
Nigahon ki dooriyan
Hum rahon ki dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan
Kyun koi paas hai
Door hai Kyun koi
Jaane Na koi yahan pe
Aa Raha paas ya door mein ja raha
Janu na mein hoon kahan pe
Yeh dooriyan
In raahon ki dooriyan
Nigahon ki dooriyan
Hum rahon ki dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan
Yeh dooriyan
Yeh dooriyan
Kabhi hua yeh bhi
Khali Rahon pe bhi
Tu tha mere saath
Kabhi tujhe milke lauta
mera dil yeh khali khali haath
Yeh bhi hua kabhi
Jaise hua Aabhi
Tujhko sabhi mein paa li
Tera mujhe kar jaati hai dooriyan
Satati hain dooriyan
Tarsati hain dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan
Kaha bhi na mene
Nahi jeena mene
Tu jo na mila
Tujhe bhule se bhi na
Bola na mene chahun fasla
Bas fasla rahein
Ban ke kasak jo kahen
Ho aur chahat yeh aur jawan
Teri meri mit jaani hai dooriyan
Begani hai dooriyan
Hat jani dooriyan
Fanah ho sabhi dooriyan
Kyun koi paas hai
Door hai Kyun koi
Jaane Na koi yahan pe
Aa Raha paas ya door mein ja raha
Janu na mein hoon kahan pe
Yeh dooriyan
In raahon ki dooriyan
Nigahon ki dooriyan
Hum rahon ki dooriyan

I Believe In you-Il Divo

Lonely the path you have chosen
A restless road, no turning back
One day you will find your light again
Don't you know
Don't let go be strong

Follow your heart
Let your love lead through the darkness
Back to a place you once knew
I believe I believe I believe in you
Follow your dreams
Be yourself an angel of kindness
There's nothing that you cannot do
I believe I believe I believe in you

Tout seul
Tu t'en iras tout seul
Cœur ouvert
A l'univers
Poursuis ta quête
Sans regarder derrière
N'attends pas
Que le jour
Se lève


(All aloneYou'll leave aloneOpen HeartA universeGo on your questWithout looking backDo not waitThat dayRises)

Suis ton étoile
Va jusqu'où ton rêve t'emporte
Un jour tu le toucheras
Si tu croix, si tu croix, si tu croix
En toi



(Follow your starWill take you far your dreamsOne day you will touchIf you cross, if you cross, if you crossIn you)
 
Suis ta lumière
N'éteins pas la flamme que tu portes
Au fonds de toi souviens-toi
Que je croix, que je croix, que je croix
En toi



(Am your light
 do not extinguish the flame which you carry
 At the funds of remember
 I cross, I cross, I crossIn you)


Someday I'll find you
Someday you'll find me too
And when I hold you close
I know that it's true

Follow your heart
Let your love lead through the darkness
Back to a place you once knew
I believe I believe I believe in you
Follow your dreams
Be yourself an angel of kindness
There's nothing that you cannot do
I believe I believe I believe in you