Avik's Story

Taniya fought with me, when I simply asked her to confirm. “Should I go today to Nehru Place?” She flamed up. She accused me of not putting her in my top priority and then used some fence-sharp words, which dug my skin and pinched my heart. I didn’t blame her. I came back from office and then went hurriedly to Nehru Place, showed my M-ticket to a uniformed doorman in Satyam Cinema, went upstairs and found my seat in a fairly large hall. It was eight in evening and I could hear all Bengali chatter around. The movie, ‘Praktan’ was about to start. My job was simple. Watch it and then relay it to her. She loved the title tracks and the trailer. She wanted badly to watch the movie, but she was out of any means. Hence, me. My little research about the movie revealed interesting facts. It was being released in many USA theaters today and Mukesh Bhatt had bought the copyright for a Hindi remake with same title even before it was released. And the belligerent couple was none other than

I’m a pretty shit guy, who’s blessed with wonderful women all around. Among them, two and half are mother-figures, rest are sisters, aunties or friends. The first one is my Mom , who vehemently rejects the idea that I may grow up oneday, or maybe I’ve grown up. She still unpacks my bag, when I’m home and packs them with teary eyes, when I’m about to leave. She still washes my cloth whenever possible, and arrange them neatly at almirah. She knows, which dish to prepare to convince me to eat more. She knows when I’m ill or when I’m depressed, and often is the first one to call and console. She was the first woman of my life, and still the best one. But I’ve been shit to her. I lied to her several times. Now I know she knew all, but she never pointed those in my face. I was with friends - partying, or with girlfriend - fooling around, or with colleagues – drinking and I hanged her call. I told her I was busy, I’d call later. And I forgot. I didn’t call back. Maybe next day, she

Past 90 days, so far deadliest forest fires have claimed 1900 hectre of forest in Uttarakhand. 6.17% of Indian forests are prone to severe fire damage. 50% are risky. High Temperature, Low Rainfall & El-Nino to be blamed, but foul play hasn't ruled out. Govt. says it will take actions against culprits after the fire is doused. Govt's inability and incapacity fuels the rage of fire. Every year between February to June, forest fires are common because the soil becomes dry and moisture less. Govt. does nothing to take precaution. Some say, local timber mafia started this fire. They are the one of the most powerful mafia in India. Last year more than 15000 fires have been reported in India. Maximum of them are by mafia. Billions of dollars are lost. Millions of trees are burnt. Thousands of houses are destroyed. By severity, this year's fire has galloped the entire region into a terror.  So far 6000 personnel are working day and night to douse

The man was Srinivas Ramanujan. Expectation was high. I bated breath when the title scrolled on screen. The previous biopic titled ‘Ramanujan’ directed by Gnana Rajasekaran on this enigmatic Indian autodidact, was a failed attempt to capture the essence of his short life, and the beauty lied in it.  But this one is a top class Hollywood production, though with relatively low budget.  The movie began, and we heard the engaging voice of Cambridge mathematician G.H. Hardy (Jeremy Irons) depicting his relationship with this mysterious Indian in 2012 and then the story took us back to Madras in 1914, where Ramanujan (Dev Patel) was shown living in abject poverty and searching for a clerical job. The rest was his epic fight with people’s skepticism, incredulity and his fate, until he reached to the pinnacle of success. The hell of a story. The hell of a life. Tear jerking scr

Study says, 33% users become somewhat dissatisfied with life or present status, right after using Facebook. I didn’t believe it. I thought it was preposterous. Some bull-shit. I mean Facebook is just a media, a time pass and something to long onto when nothing else works. How can it dissatisfy someone? Well. I was wrong. It’s fucking dissatisfying. I Gini-Pigged myself. First, the happiness. Always someone is marrying or getting into new job or moving into new town or travelling some cool places. And looking into them in screen while wobbling in a stinking sweaty crowd in a moving metro coach, or sitting on a dull chair before a junky desktop alongwith gloomy colleagues in a dismal room, obviously sucks the leftover happiness or whatever. So I scroll down with a silent growl. Second, the selfies . The piggy style or goat style or monkey style or donkey style, whatever style they follow, the girls look always hot and the boys look muscled stud. I look on contrary