Novo's Eleven!

Now that the FIFA World Cup '10 has ended I thought of compiling my own eleven in a 4-4-2 formation! Here they are:

1.) CHARACTER – Goal Keeper.

2.) ZEAL – Centre Back One.

3.) FOCUS – Centre Back Two

4.) EGO – Full Back Right.

5.) ATTITUDE - Full Back Left.

6.) BRAVADO - Centre Mid-field One.

7.) INTEGRITY - Center Mid-field Two.

8.) DISCIPLINE - Side Mid-field One.

9.) HUNGER - Side Mid-field Two.

10.) LOVE - Center Forward One.

11.) COMPASSION - Center Forward Two.

ATBF - A CLARIFICATION

From the time my debut novel 'A Thing Beyond Forever' came out I have been receiving mails in which people have put forward their feedback...but one question that continues to remain common in those feedback is why did I kill Radhika? Well, I never gave a genuine reason to anybody for that but deep inside hoped they cultivated it themselves...but now I guess its high time I present the clarification...

Here it goes:

The issue arises when we take Radhika's suicide in a literal sense. I only want to ask one thing: Can't it be a metaphorical suicide...? Can't it simply signify the death of Radhika's resolve (bordering on idealism) to love Raen forever and not substitute him with anybody?

What if I tell you from the point she thought of jumping from the terrace the story takes a 'delusional' turn where Radhika is only imagining what will happen if she 'really' jumps ... and the last scene where she hallucinates making love with Raen for one last time is her farewell to Raen and all his emotional gifts to her. She imagines it all while standing on the terrace perhaps realizing for the first time that her life deserved a second chance with Sunil and thus, may be ... just may be she didn't ACTUALLY jump off the terrace ... Now, what did she do afterwards if she really didn't jump?

I deliberately kept the ending a little vague and open because I wanted my readers to interpret the ending on the basis of their own cognition and not thrust something concrete on them from my side...hence I didn't dig into 'what Radhika did afterwards' in the novel.

And with the Epilogue I am not saying Radhika is born again - sorry, no 'Bollywood' here - it just-simply-only signifies that a 'story' is born somewhere in the form of Elizabeth Heather Ferguson and that she too would have to, at some point of time, swim in this mysterious ocean of Love and Attraction the way Radhika did ... the way we all do in our own lives...

Whether one agrees or not with this explanation is not the point here. I have presented my real thoughts behind the ending that happened to me while I was writing it. Everybody has the right to agree or disagree. And my regards for both. The point here is sometimes in stories, like in life, there's MORE than our eyes tell us and MUCH MORE than the words frame. Of course you might ask where have I written all that in the book but I would humbly confess I, as an author, don't like to spoon-feed my readers for I respect them.

Thank you for your time.

NOTE: This is only for people who have read the novel. Comments for this post WON'T be published. My apologies. Also, I love questions :) ... so in case of any residual query please feel free to email me: novosphere@gmail.com

And, Cut!

I was writing a film script and while I was switching between scenes a thought thundered in my mind. Success is a CLOSE UP. Nobody cares to see anything else apart from the sudden glittering spark in your face. And failure is a LONG SHOT. Every bit offers itself for a subjective analysis. And the funny part is one can cheat a ‘close up’ but it’s difficult to cheat a ‘long shot’.

Also, I realized the ever so eluding entity we call life is basically a summation of those eager and at times scary expectations we promise ourselves knowing the ‘Cut’ (from ‘close up to a ‘long shot’ or vice versa) might happen…anytime.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

KNOTS

Stuffing all the jewelleries inside a bag the thief hurled a rope out of the window and began to move down slowly. Within half a minute his feet touched the ground and in a trice he disappeared into the darkness.

The entire scene was witnessed by a young man who, sitting by the window of a flat in the opposite building and smoking pensively, was having his own private moment of introspection. The sudden sight of the thief made him sit up on his chair. His first instinct was to scream and awake everyone but something made him forgo the temptation. He observed the rope…full of tight knots at regular intervals…much like his own life…and the purpose?

To help the thief climb up…!

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Jana Hai

Tanhai ke suitcase mein,

Naye-purane zakhmon ko sametkar,

Lamhon ke khirki-darwaze band kar,

Jana Hai.

Mazhab kai hai, Bhagwan wahi.

Dard kai hai, Dil wahi.

Judai ki bus le kar, main,

Pauchunga pachtave ke stop par.

Umeed ke har store band honge aaj.

Rishton ke shahar mein curfew jo hain.

Waqt ke purse mein,

Galtiyon kay photo chupaye nahi chupte.

Mohabbat currency note hain,

Zamane ke theatre mein ghuste hi kharch ho jate hain.

Badan ke zoo mein,

Naraazgi ke kai jaanwar qaid hai, ab bhi.

Afsos ke kapdon se dhakkar, magar,

Jana hai.

Mijaz kayi hai, Mausam wahi.

Bahane kayi hai, khichav wahi.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Tap Water

While coming back home from college few years back my bus stopped at a signal. I was sitting by a window seat so got a chance to notice an old man sitting by a road side tap. He was carrying a not-interested-in-this-world-anymore kind of expression on his face. Or was I reading too much, I don’t know. Though he kept watching the people (so did I) who came for water and seeing the tap empty of it went away abusing the municipality.

The signal turned green and my bus leaped forward with gusto. For once I turned back at the old man only to see him happily filling his bottle. Voila! The water had come.

After I reached home I somehow felt relaxed from within for I now knew, sometimes, one needs to wait for the opportunity with the dress of preparation on and not make a blind sprint for it.

Thanks ‘old man’, wherever you are!

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Stand Fan

It was hot. It was humid. I was irritated. I was angry. Suddenly a woman came over and put a stand fan where the patients were waiting for their call from the doctor. As soon as the fan was switched on it started swinging from left to right. I relaxed feeling the air but soon the fan turned away to my locked-jaw chagrin.

A little boy, who was sitting next to me, kept shifting from left to right in accordance to the fan’s face. And I soon surmised he was the happiest and the least sweaty amongst all the visitors. For unlike him we all were only waiting for the fan to turn towards us.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY