My Email Id

To send any message to me, or for private comments, please use the mail id : sudipsam67@yahoo.co.in or Whatsapp me at 919477202742

The bloody diamond

The bloody diamond
This is life

Welcome to the imperfect world

Welcome to the super-real world where survival comes first, much before the high alter preachings of excellence (for others only). So if you are the one who does not have to survive, or does not care - you have a choice not to remain here.

For others, please have a seat and take cover - here anything can happen anytime and you may just become a faceless co-lateral damage. Everything here is related to life and death, pains and agonies, treacheries and conspiracies, cons and deceit, treason and betrayals, despair and darkness - we just do not live in any perfect world.

BUT that is why the blog is here at all - let there be light. It aspires to show the way, to train myself and my friends in the defense against the dark arts. It is also related to hope and courage, renunciation and redemption, indomitable will and lust for life - the immortal battle with the dark side. Red flag fluttering in the gentle wind, all hands on deck, war cries in the air, daggers drawn, no quarters given nor asked, no hostages taken - we must fight till the last man standing

Rest assured, you are in good hands. These hands, with all the talents or the lack of them, with all the liveliness and the inner brooding, with the over-sized ego and the extra-ordinary humility, with all the goodness and the devilish designs - have been war veterans - they have fought for decades in the battle of survival.

Happy surviving



Love in blood

Love in blood

The inescapable war within

It is the curse of the human that we are constantly at wars. War with the Government, society, family, spouse, children, Boss, peer, friends, neighbours. Some of these are overt, some crude, some plain enmity but some are subtle, some barely palpable, some low key and guerilla types, some are cold as razors, some are dry like the funeral pyres.

Most of these cannot be own with force or when you try for winning - sometimes you have to lose to win them. Some are more like trials than wars, they never show the faces, never let you see their pimples, just shadows, the kafkaesque faceless executioners take over.

For all these, we need inner strength, we need strategies. Sometimes the objective is survival, sometimes it's plain escape from the random blades, sometimes the heady delight of beheading the enemy. Sometimes it is sheer joy to be alive, sometimes happiness comes over from a walkover or just a walkaway, without even a careless looking back. Often it is a mixed feeling - the agony, the ecstasy, the brutal orgasm or a complete disenchanted detachment - a shelter in the NOW. They sometimes need courage, need cunning finesse, sometimes ruthless lack of values of a son-of-the-bitch, sometimes daring flamboyant recklessness, maybe even stoic nonchalance. But the best of the best generals in the wars of life, always win without unnecessary bloodshed or even none of it at all.

But the most painful and fearful of all these wars are the ones with oneself. It could be a conflict between mind and heart or even the soul that holds our values dear. And this is one war that always hurts, always wounds, always bleeds one dry, always keeps one awake through the fearful night with the shadows of the beautiful lacey curtains blowing in the gentle wind and making shadows of our most intimate fears within. It is like a nation under seize, and alas, there is no escape. When you will kill yourself softly, no survival strategy ever works.



Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Shong-sar Meal planning - A healing strategy



My dear wife, though the undisputed owner of the shong-sar, always asks me what should be on the menu on the next day. This, historically, is a question that has embarrassed me and irritated me to no end because I am the type who simply wants to look the other way on these petty matters (!!??) and also the "keeping quiet" strategy is a ridiculous failure under the condition. It is also the knowledge that whatever I will say will be later turned down for some reasons and then she will have to give the orders her own way, that gives me the tweaks and twitches. In the one and half decades I have seen that anything, well almost, is not welcome to her for more than 2 days at a stretch and she fast becomes tired of that. Now, wherefrom should I import so much of variety (thank God, not spices) in life ? Then one fine late night, I sat on creating a table of the possible dishes and items which I now use as a ready reckoner and whenever asked the golden query, I start reading from that like that "Sardar poro" in the Tulsidasi tune. That has provided such consternation in the related minds (well, an instant maggi mix to irritate is lost ?) that lately nobody seem to be asking when I am ready to give the answer !! Oh God, there’s no justice !@#$%^&
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