Thursday, February 2, 2012


Fashion is a ongoing phenomena, what is fashionable today, tomorrow the same thing is so unfashionable. It is really a hard job to keep up with the current trend. I am not that fashion conscious; but like all, I like to be at present not something like an old relic. I can not exactly remember how many pairs of trousers, shirts, shoes and jackets were crying for my attention at various stages of my life before giving them away to the needy.

I had some favorite dresses, specially those, which were part of some of my most memorable time, were there in the wardrobe for longer days crying for my attention. They get attention after some interval but not what a shirt would like to like. The jacket I was wearing that drew attention of my better half to me, was bright red with yellow stripes. That jacket was there in wardrobe for the longest as my fashion misstatement. Now, I wriggle at the very thought of wearing that jacket ever, but I did that and met my future wife. Hence, a strong misstatement of fashion sometime can be a gainful act.

Going back a few more years to my tween days the fashion world was very colorful, with lots of floral shirts, bellbottoms and platform shoes. The world just whizzed past tight pants and long pointed shoes era. John Travolta with his epic pose of lifted finger adored most of our walls. We yearned to wear a pair of bellbottoms but that was something impossible with our totalatarian parents (what all my tween friends thought at that point of time) around. But hindi movies openly propagated the idea: the smarts and handsomer wear nothing but floral shirts, bellbottoms, two inch wide belt with huge buckles and platform shoes. We felt like outcast in a group of fashioned teens even if  we were not welcome guests.

John Travolta
Cover of John Travolta

Suddenly, the impossible happened, the brightest amongst us who we thought had the hardest boiled egg parents turned up with a flared trouser, a bellbottom. That too with his parent in toes. That was the much needed lead, immediately we started impressing our parents in our own individual ways for the yearned styled flared trousers.

Bohag Bihu is the biggest occassion in the part where I lived, and everybody wear new clothes on the first day of this festival. My father asked me to report to the nearby cloth-store from where we bought most of our family clothing needs and to place an order for stiching a trouser for me with slight flare at the bottom. It should be modest and suit my age of  (ripe) twelve and half. Cycling to the store was the fastest cycling I ever did and could put Lance Armstrong to shame. Placed the order after selecting a suitable apparel for it and waited till the first day of Bihu,  on which date the trouser shall be delivered.  As a very special case the shop shall remain open in the first half of the day to meet the order deadlines.

I waited with much anticipation for the trouser which was very much obvious to my mother, and enjoyed it.

The first thing I did on Bihu was to have a bath and have breakfast of Pithas and Jalpan of delicacies availble only in that part of the world in traditional attire of dhuti, gamocha and chapkan. Slowly I took out my cycle and went to the cloth store and changed my dress to the newly stiched bellbottom and cycled back to my home.

Everybody, I met on the road wished me before I could; and complimented my dress. Elation is the word to express how I felt.

Back home by the time some relatives, friends gathered to wish and to enjoy the customery pithas. I proudly entered the room in my new dress. The first persom I met was my father, whose mouth fell open dropping almost every piece of pithas he had in his mouth to his lap. The reason: the trouser was the brightest yellow colored with maximum possible flared bellbottom.

The day was saved, though rods were not spared in those days to correct spoilt sons. Only because nobody spank their sons on the day of Bihu . That was the last occasion I wore my dream bellbottom. I overgrew it in next six months.

I still have the Yellow Pair of Bellbottom in my memory box and it will be there till I am there to remind me of my fads and whims of my eventful journey of life.
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Sunday, January 15, 2012


I am somewhat musically inclined, my family doesn't subscribe to the statement. They have the fortune or mis-fortune of hearing me singing. I could never play any musical instrument including tabla, my father  employed a tabla teacher for me during my childhood. I used to sneak away when the tabla teacher turned up and played my game of football. It was a failed experiment for my father. But I developed a good ear to music during my teens and I think that is really required. All of us are not born with musical talent, and the musical performers without talent but with lots of practice generally fails to impress and never reach pinnacle.

A good tune heard gets stuck in sub-conscious mind, keeps coming out if one is in mood and alone. This is the precise reason I don't carry a personal music player. Someone had coined a very beautiful word "bathroom-singer", and I am proud to be one. I like music of old genre: folk, country, soft rock, devotional, blues. 

Assamese music world is vibrant, with some very talented musician and singers. I think, the secret of this vibrancy is the scenic beauty of Assam, the evergreen trees and beautiful weather which cannot but inspire the people of Assam to be happy and in good mood.We had the fortune of having one of the most complete singer in Assamese language Dr. Bhupen Hazarika. There are many more worth mentioning but the list will be long. 

Bhupen Hazarika
Image via Wikipedia
Around one year back my teen son handed me a CD  named "JOI-Looking out of the window" and I kept it in the CD rack of my car. I am a faithful listener to Dr. Bhupen Hazarika, Dido, Smokie and some assorted music carefully chosen over a long period of time from various artistes. I regret of ignoring the CD till a month back, as it was a pleasant experience hearing the songs. The singer Joi Barua is a talented one and his voice matches the hard rock requirements. I used to listen some Iron Maiden, Grateful Dead and  could somewhat appreciate hard rocks with some help from friends (Syamanta Gogoi and Bendong Wati Ao). 

The most striking number to me is Aikon Baikon,  the vocals of Joi Barua was supported marvelously  by Pawan Rasaily (lead guitar), Ibson Lal Barua (rhythm guitar), Manash Chowdhary (bass guitar) and Partho Goswami (drums). All the songs are pleasantly different and soothing to ears. Abani Tanti should get special mention as he is one who inspired the production of this album like many other ventures. I only hope the group continues to produce such music in Assamese, that will matter in the long run.

One can foresee a bright future in Assamese Music with such groups being there.

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Friday, January 6, 2012


So many words were minced to describe the perplexities of various events, anything but a concrete and comprehensible has come out. Perplexity, itself is with few more added dimensions to complexities which is already incomprehensible in nature. 

Lets examine a simple example of going to a store to buy a bar of bath soap. The complexities of the process is many fold: how to go, where to go, which brand, at what price range, of what color, hardness of the bar, foaming capacity vis-a-vis cleaning capacity and on and on and on. The simplest of example can explain the great complexities of finding a subatomic particle and establishing its properties in a flux of radiated energy packets.

When our judgement is involved in those complexities the perplexities takes over. The perplexity induced or simply perplexed mind raises confusions and contradictions. it is virtually impossible to perform any job if we ignore the complexities and resulting perplexities of that job. One’s body language is often an indication of the perplexity his mind is going through.

Image by giulia ester via Flickr

Perplexity is not limited to superior mind of human being, it is observed in animal world too. One can observe the perplexed mind of a dog, cat or any other pet if minutely observed.

The initiation of perplexities in ones mind is a process. Though the process seems to be simple enough it is perplexing enough to insert more in the following flowchart:


Oh, Perplexing! 

The whole world is, including my new mobile.
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