Friday, June 24, 2016

Chhorha

ভোটাভুটি 
দাঁতকপাটি 
উন্নয়ন 
সঙ্গোপন 
মাটির মা 
গরম চা

On Beckett's Grave (May 22, 2016)



Silence is a stalwart.
At your grave,
The third decade 
From On to No and once again.
And only one,
Raining upon my being.
To be again
And not again.
Silence is dripping
It's you now
It will be me...

Watching The Lobster

Finally watched this dystopic fantasy! A strong film with both twists and the twisted...on the necessity as well as the impossibility of love...liked the way it ended, leaving the bracket entirely open...

Watching TE3N

An emotional thriller that combines mourning with detection as the objects of mourning become clues in the process of solving the mystery of an old crime. Unlike the critics, I didn't find the film slow and if it all, its slowness I thought was an insight into the arrested time of mourning. Amitabh Bachchan was quite outstanding in underplaying his role. His impeccable body-language with those drooping shoulders, gaping mouth and sparkling eyes, conveying anguish, anger, resolve and restlessness, simply towered over the film. It is lovely to see how with films like Piku and Te3n, the great actor has staged a return to one of the first cities where he had once been a struggler, looking for work. Nawaz, Vidya and others gave him solid company. And so did the old city of Kolkata, shot beautifully in all its chromatic intensity.

Lacanian Psychoanalysis and Literature Link

This video interview of mine is a prelude to the week-long course on Lacanian Psychoanalysis and Literature, I will be teaching from 18-22 July 2016 at UNSW for The Sydney School of Continental Philosophy. Thanks to my friend Stu Guerin for his pointed questions and all the technical work. Hope you enjoy the conversation. The registration details for the course are available on the video link, just below the video in its description.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BOiiwvNLbfs&feature=youtu.be

Proem

Old unstoppable ears, all you know is a complaining rigmarole of words, bereft of ageing.
You let them float in your ageless stream night and day until they dissolve into one another, like drops of rainwater, running towards one another, on a misty windowpane.
On the windowpane, union is dissolution.
Old unstoppable ears, one of these days or nights, you should finally close your inexistent lids and listen to your own inner sibilance.
When time leaves your hollow, all hearing becomes resonance.

সমীর রায়চৌধুরীর প্রয়াণসংবাদ

এখুনি ফেসবুকে সমীর রায়চৌধুরীর প্রয়াণসংবাদ পেলাম। ব্যক্তিগতভাবে পরিচয় হয়ে ওঠেনি। বেশ কয়েকবার একই মলাটে লেখার সুযোগ হয়েছিল। খুবই আনন্দ হয়েছিল ওঁর কলমে আমার কয়েকটি ঝুরোগল্পের প্রশংসা পেয়ে। বন্ধু নবেন্দু একবার কোনো এক পত্রিকার জন্য কালেক্ট করে আনা সমীরদার হাতে লেখা একটা কবিতা দেখিয়েছিল। লাইন টানা কাগজে কাঁপা কাঁপা হাতে লেখা ঐ আঁকা বাঁকা অক্ষরগুলো আজ খুব মনে পড়ছে। লেখকের স্মৃতি তো তার লেখাই। তাঁর হস্তাক্ষর রয়ে যাবে। সাহিত্যের একটা প্রজন্ম তথা যুগের অনেককিছু নিয়ে চলে গেলেন তিনি। অগ্রজ সাহিত্যিককে শ্রদ্ধা।

Poem in Translation

"Man fills his bottle with good tidings
And lovingly calls it water.
Transparent news is sigh-like.
Bottles only return liquefied destiny.
Hence, oh man-
If the dawn of every spin
does not own the marks of tilling
After a few midnights, all the good tidings of the world will dry up."
Dipangshu Acharya's poem in my attempted translation.