Sometimes they teach, but most of the times, this is what they do. My profs rock!!
* “For a long time I have been taking classes with two people. Sometimes three. This is so disconcerting.”
- Prof PB, on being faced with a class of 40-odd.
* Amlanda in a Milton class: " There's no help for it, really... no help at all... you know, they say this when a man is going to get killed... well, as I see it... we shall have to read the whole of Paradise Lost."
* Dibyajyoti: “He goes to Hell…”
Prof SukChau: “Yes. But he doesn’t stay there, poor man..”
-on wanting to know the story of The Divine Comedy.
* “Bertrand Russell’s third wife – he had many wives and girlfriends – he really really did believe in free love.”
-Prof PC, on Bertrand Russell.
* On having been sent by Amlanda to tell Prof SKC ( the Don) that there’s a phonecall for him at the office
Me: Sir, there’s a phone call for you..
Prof. SKC: Is the person on the other end attractive?
Me: Umm, that’s impossible to know, Sir..
Prof. SKC: Ask, ask..you must always ask.
Me: Well, Amlanda (another prof) is doing all the asking
Prof SKC: Then it must be my wife!
After going and receiving the call, he continues, ‘That was a singularly unattractive gentleman professor from Burdwan who wants to get his daughter into the department. I am not receiving any calls you bring me news of ever again!’
* “In the first scene of the movie Henslowe is being tortured for failing to pay back money. Henslowe had enough money to buy all the torturers of England at one go. But who wants reality when you can watch Gweneth Paltrow? --Prof SKC on the film, Shakespeare in Love.
Toocool. :)
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Bovine Intervention
Governmental agency, is undisputedly, the rock-star when it comes to planting superfluous and baffling objects in public places, and giving everyone a sore-eyeful. No, I’m not talking about Prasun Mukherjee here, in case you thought so. What I am talking about, is the cow, or rather, the clay model of what can only in the most benevolent of moods be termed a ‘cow’ , in the heart of a newly opened jogger’s park in kolkata, called Elliott park.
I happened to go there yesterday, with M and a friend of hers, N. Having heard about its beautiful rolling lawns, and abundance of multi-colored flora, and having a bit of time to spare, on route to our final destination, the three of us enthusiastically threw away good ol’ hard earned money (they actually charge you for entrance to the blighted place!) anticipating much pleasure, and respite. I was feeling quite proud of myself by then, to have actually entered a jogger’s park. It was something I had been planning to do, for approximately the last three and a half years ( “walking..it’s the best thing..the air does wonders for your skin, too, you know..and anyway, you’ll get into the habit of getting up early..getting up early..it’s the best thing ..”) , but hey, its never to late to start, is it?..
Half an hour later, I knew how right I’d been all along to avoid all such avowedly health-enhancing practices. I had seen the ‘cow’. And whoever has seen it, will know how dangerous such sightings can be to the general health, mental stability and aesthetic sense of any unsuspecting soul. It was a bit of a camel and a cow, with a tiger’s paws, and a dog’s tail. Also, not to forget the lolling bit of red tongue. And this intruiging entity, mysteriously stuck in the center of a bed of rongons and jabas. The tenth cow, Khushwant Singh would have said, but unholy and of suspicious pedigree.
I would really like to meet the sort of people who get these brilliant ideas, and get away with it. Without due recognition and acknowledgement. But that , my friend, is precisely the case with them . You never see who planned with malicious glee, with a rub of the palms and a glint in the eye, who did the offensive act, who put it there. It seems to just spring up from the ground, drop from thin air. It has no origin and no end. It remains unchallenged and unsullied. It’s the govt.’s way of making life beautiful, we all know, but hey, Buddhadeb Bhattarjee didn’t come in the dead of night and stick it there, did he?
It’s a mystery worthy of Holmes and his elementary sidekick. And till its solved and the criminals duly punished, I hope and pray that we are spared from further aestheticising enterprises. Take away the cow, take away the hideous sculptures from the Nandan complex, take away the mysterious hoardings which show a couple of grinning men, and the line ‘friendship between brothers’ or words to that (sniggering) effect written below them. The city of Kolkata does not deserve them. It is an artist’s city; but if this is art, we could do very well without it.
I happened to go there yesterday, with M and a friend of hers, N. Having heard about its beautiful rolling lawns, and abundance of multi-colored flora, and having a bit of time to spare, on route to our final destination, the three of us enthusiastically threw away good ol’ hard earned money (they actually charge you for entrance to the blighted place!) anticipating much pleasure, and respite. I was feeling quite proud of myself by then, to have actually entered a jogger’s park. It was something I had been planning to do, for approximately the last three and a half years ( “walking..it’s the best thing..the air does wonders for your skin, too, you know..and anyway, you’ll get into the habit of getting up early..getting up early..it’s the best thing ..”) , but hey, its never to late to start, is it?..
Half an hour later, I knew how right I’d been all along to avoid all such avowedly health-enhancing practices. I had seen the ‘cow’. And whoever has seen it, will know how dangerous such sightings can be to the general health, mental stability and aesthetic sense of any unsuspecting soul. It was a bit of a camel and a cow, with a tiger’s paws, and a dog’s tail. Also, not to forget the lolling bit of red tongue. And this intruiging entity, mysteriously stuck in the center of a bed of rongons and jabas. The tenth cow, Khushwant Singh would have said, but unholy and of suspicious pedigree.
I would really like to meet the sort of people who get these brilliant ideas, and get away with it. Without due recognition and acknowledgement. But that , my friend, is precisely the case with them . You never see who planned with malicious glee, with a rub of the palms and a glint in the eye, who did the offensive act, who put it there. It seems to just spring up from the ground, drop from thin air. It has no origin and no end. It remains unchallenged and unsullied. It’s the govt.’s way of making life beautiful, we all know, but hey, Buddhadeb Bhattarjee didn’t come in the dead of night and stick it there, did he?
It’s a mystery worthy of Holmes and his elementary sidekick. And till its solved and the criminals duly punished, I hope and pray that we are spared from further aestheticising enterprises. Take away the cow, take away the hideous sculptures from the Nandan complex, take away the mysterious hoardings which show a couple of grinning men, and the line ‘friendship between brothers’ or words to that (sniggering) effect written below them. The city of Kolkata does not deserve them. It is an artist’s city; but if this is art, we could do very well without it.
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